


The Mob Boss and The Mechanic

by RunningInThePouringRain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Attraction, Avengers Family, BAMF Steve Rogers, BAMF Tony Stark, Gangs, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, M/M, Mechanic Tony Stark, Mob Boss Steve Rogers, Morally Grey Characters, Organized Crime, Sassy Tony Stark, Sex, Stony - Freeform, Team as Family, Tony Stark is a genius and can save himself, Violence, darker Steve Rogers, strangers to fuck buddies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-12-21 05:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 132,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningInThePouringRain/pseuds/RunningInThePouringRain
Summary: Steve Rogers has a past that led to him becoming The Captain, the most notorious mob boss in Brooklyn.Tony Stark has a past that led to him leaving home at 18, setting up his own garage and trying to get on with his life as best he could.When Tony is hired to fix Steve's bike, Steve knows he is screwed. Tony Stark is sassy, doesn't take any of his bullshit and has eyes to die for and Steve absolutely knows he shouldn't go anywhere near him yet he finds himself drawn into whatever this thing with Tony is. With both the police and Hydra closing in around him, a rising body count and a team to protect, Steve needs to do whatever it takes to protect his family but he still can't seem to distance himself from the Mechanic that has captured his attention and quite possibly his heart.(The Mob Boss and Mechanic AU story that started out as a tumblr prompt and ended up as a full length fic).





	1. Chapter 1

The frigid air had a bite to it as Steve stood out in the open in the middle of the abandoned warehouse district that was to be their meeting place. Winter had come to Brooklyn harshly this year, his fingers were already tingling with the cold and if he looked over at Natasha on his left, he knew her nose would have a slight red tint to it that matched her hair.

The night was a clear one despite the chill and Steve found his eyes drifting up to take in the darkness of the sky as they waited. Natasha was a statue next to him, if she was cold then she didn’t let it show. Bucky was kicking his foot into the dirt under his boots with impatience and Steve wanted to tell him to knock it off but held his tongue. It would do no good to fight amongst themselves when they needed to be a solid unit. Thor didn’t seem to notice the cold either, he wasn’t wearing a coat, just a thick knit jumper that looked like it came out of a thrift store. He was swinging a large hammer in his palm with ease and Steve knew despite the heaviness of the tool, Thor barely registered it as anything else than an extension of his arm.

Sitwell was late.

They were meant to start at midnight and it was at least seven minutes past that now. If there was one thing Steve hated, it was tardiness. That was no way to conduct business in his opinion and that was what they were here for after all.

The last Friday of every third month Steve’s gang, The Avengers, would meet Hydra in a mutual location to make sure territories were being honoured and business was on track. They didn’t like each other but they both operated out of Brooklyn and Steve didn’t like anyone on his patch. Steve hated these talks of politics but he understood their importance. Phillips had always told him, ‘Listen to them talk and they’ll give more away then they realise. That’s the stuff you can use.’ But that had been years ago, a time when Steve had stood off to the side as business was discussed rather than front and centre. But it was his gang now, his family, and he was responsible for making sure the terms of the fragile peace with Hydra were being honoured.

Steve cocked an eyebrow as a car crawled into the open clearing, pencilled in by large shipping crates on all sides. A maze of privacy and steel that would allow them to discuss business without being found. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against his motorbike with a look of boredom etched into his features as the car in front of him stopped and the back door opened.

This wasn’t their usual spot for meeting, Steve preferred the docks. It was further out of the city and the sound of the waves crashing against the pier always managed to calm him down when Sitwell said something stupid. Hydra’s current front runner had suggested the warehouse district instead and Steve didn’t have a reason to refuse.

Sitwell slid out of the car with ease and another burly man followed him out soon after, eyes clocking Steve immediately. Steve narrowed his eyes at Sitwell, his slighter frame doing nothing to intimidate Steve. He wasn’t the leader of Hydra; they hadn’t had one since Steve had drowned Schmidt over the side of the pier last year. Perhaps that was why Sitwell wasn’t keen on meeting there.

Bucky stopped moving to Steve’s left, standing straighter and squaring his shoulders. A few strands of hair had escaped the bun he favoured but Bucky didn’t move to get them out of the way. The meeting had started.

And Clint still wasn’t here.

He never missed a meeting with Hydra or a direct order from Steve. Clint was as loyal as they came and it pricked at Steve’s skin that he wasn’t here. It felt like he was operating on less than full capacity. Without his eyes in the sky Steve was at a slight disadvantage. As long as Sitwell didn’t learn that he’d be able to bluff through this meeting and then he’d find Clint and tear him a new one for flaking out.

“Captain.” Sitwell greeted, buttoning up his coat. Steve could see his eyes slip over to the hammer in Thor’s hand.

Steve couldn’t help but grin at the look of fear in Sitwell’s face at the dried blood stuck to the rusted surface of the weapon. Thor was very good at what he did, it was one of the reasons Steve recruited him. The presence of the weapon itself invoked fear. Everyone had heard the stories of The God of Thunder and no one wanted to find out if they were true.

They all were, Steve knew, and he’d seen Thor swing that hammer enough to know that he never missed his target.

“Sitwell.” Steve greeted, pushing off from his bike to stand tall. He’d ridden across town for the meeting alone, despite Natasha’s advice against it, and despite the chill stinging his cheeks it had given him a chance to really appreciate his city. That was something Steve rarely got to do these days; he was too busy protecting it from people like Sitwell.

Steve walked towards Sitwell slowly, his family taking their silence order to follow him as Sitwell and his men did the same. The headlights from Sitwell’s car provided enough light in the clearing to illuminate them and cast shadows on the shipping crates surround them.

Sitwell stopped just a few yards from Steve, “Nice night.” He responded, eyes looking at the sky.

“Shame about the view. Thor here does love the ocean.” Steve nodded towards the man closing their ranks.

Thor swung his hammer joyfully, “It is true. Nothing like the splatter of blood and the saltiness of sea air.”

Sitwell visibility swallowed, his own guys flanking him with two men on either side. “We’re here to discuss business, aren’t we?”

“Let’s discuss how two of your men where found on my streets last week.” Steve replied with a frown, “Pretty sure you’re in breach of your treaty right there.”

“Perhaps they got lost?” Sitwell offered with a smile, he looked at the guy on his right for back up, “A little too much to drink and your legs just sort of carry you.”

It was Natasha that spoke, “They were selling guns to children.” Her voice was deadly firm and quiet. She still commanded every presence in her vicinity to take notice of her.

“And they both no longer have their fingers.” Sitwell sighed, “Your work, I believe, Widow?”

“You can’t sell guns if you can’t pull a trigger on one.” Natasha shrugged, “I’ve always preferred knives.”

Sitwell seemed to glance her up and down for a moment, and Steve wondered if he was checking for a weapon before he spoke, “Let’s consider it a lesson learned. In return, Hydra wants a redrawing of the territories. We wanted everything from 79th Street, we’ll pay you of course.”

“Not a chance.” Steve growled, “We own everything up to 83rd and that’s the way it’s staying. Any one of your guys come a foot past it and I’ll chop that foot off and send it back to you in a box.”

“Come now, Captain. We’re discussing business, not murder tonight.” Sitwell tried to reason.

Steve clenched his jaw, “For people like us, it’s the same thing.”

As Sitwell glance across at his guys Steve knew something was off. He could feel it in his gut. Natasha seemed to bristle next to him as the same thought occurred to her and Steve was sure he could sense Bucky reaching for the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Steve’s eyes were on Sitwell though, the twitch in his left eye as he ever so slightly tilted his head that way, as if trying to see behind him without making it obvious. His forehead was shiny despite the cold weather and Steve found it odd that even after being in a warm car he’d still be sweating against the cold of the night air.

Steve watched as Sitwell glanced at Thor again, eyes slipping down to the hammer in his hands for a brief moment. He was cataloguing. Doing inventory. Trying to judge which members of Steve’s team to go for first in a fight.

Picking Thor would have been a smart choice if it wasn’t also the most obvious. Everyone went for Thor first. He was the biggest – aside from Steve himself, but no one went after The Captain whilst his team were around him because that was suicide – and he was the deadliest. Steve had seen that hammer separate skull from brain matter. He had seen Thor cleave skin from bone without breaking a sweat. Thor was the natural choice, but that was where everyone went wrong.

Sitwell needed to go for Natasha first because she was fast and her precision to throw a knife was second to none. Thor was a danger up close but Natasha was a danger even in a room full of people with one hand behind her back. Sitwell wouldn’t go for Natasha though because he would underestimate her. Steve had watched so many men make that mistake and realise it was a fatal one.

Steve waited, counting the seconds in his head as Sitwell glanced back to him. His left eye twitched again. Steve smiled at him easily. He needed Sitwell to make the first move so Steve could kill him. There was also a part of him that wondered whether Sitwell actually would make it. Steve had always had him pegged as a coward with a lust for power. He stepped into a vacant role within Hydra whereas Steve had fought his way into his.

“Sorry, Captain, I have orders not to take no for an answer.” Sitwell stated with a cocky expression and he used the move to jerk a hand towards his hip. Steve knew there was a gun there, his coat sat awkwardly on that side. Sitwell’s mistake was buttoning it up, if he left it loose like Steve’s own leather jacket then the gun on his hip would be practically invisible.

Steve did frown at the statement, “Orders from who?”

“Our new boss.” Sitwell smirked, “Hydra’s entering a new age and our new leader isn’t scared of you.”

“Is that right?” Steve quirked an eyebrow. The wind had picked up and he could feel his hair brushing again his forehead.

Sitwell shrugged, “You’re an army grunt. He’s an army grunt. You just lost your edge, Captain.”

As soon as Bucky edged forward, Steve had an arm out to his right to hold him back. He could feel Bucky’s angry ebbing out from him like a furnace. Buck always did have a short fuse. If it wasn’t for his lack of patience Steve could have sworn he’d make a better mob boss than he did.

“What makes you think I’m army?” Steve asked with a smile.

“The way you walk, the way you talk. You’re a classic example of American military.” Sitwell conceded with a scowl, “That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy killing you.”

Bucky pushed against Steve’s arm, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy trying.” Steve quipped.

He removed his arm and watched as Bucky threw himself at Sitwell.

Then all hell broke loose.

Natasha had whipped a knife out from somewhere faster than Steve could blink and she threw it at Sitwell, the blade slicing into his arm. He cried out, his opposite hand automatically going up to press against the wound. One of his men had a gun in his hand and Natasha gracefully back flipped from the path of the bullet.

Bucky had been pulled off Sitwell by another goon and they were currently going fist to fist. Bucky was brutal. Steve had sparred with him enough to know. Bucky lodged a right hook into his opponent’s jaw with such a force that it sent him back a few steps, spitting blood before he charged at Bucky again.

The last two Hydra guys went for Thor, as Sitwell had probably ordered them to. Thor watched their approach with a wide grin, all teeth and joy. He brought the hammer up as if it weighed nothing and took a swing. He knocked the first guy in the side of the head, the sound heavy and hollow before a body hit the floor. Thor never left a job unfinished though and smashed the hammer down onto his face for extra measure.

That was why they called him The God of Thunder after all. Steve shivered at the sound of the hammer shattering bone; Thor always compared it to thunder striking the earth. The damage was on the same scale in Steve’s opinion.

Thor was back up and on the second guy as soon as the hammer was free from the first man’s face and Steve didn’t envy the end, he knew that guy would meet it at Thor’s hand. He’d worked with Thor for three years now, recruited him straight out of a hole in the wall where he was looking for his brother’s killer. Thor had gladly accepted Steve’s offer at a home and a family, the kind with power and the ability to get answers. Thor wanted revenge for Loki and Steve was determined to help him, hoping to bring peace to the haunted man who had become part of his family.

Another shot rang out, lodging itself in the side of Steve’s motorbike. Steve grimaced as the smoke poured out of it. The last thing he needed was to have to fix that thing on top of his busy schedule this week. He pulled out his own gun, aiming at Sitwell who was trying to crawl back towards his car like the coward he was.

One of his men charged at Steve, the look in his eyes clearly questioning his career decisions and whether he really wanted to go up against The Captain. Steve watched Sitwell crawl further away from the ambush.

“Widow, Winter, bring me Sitwell.” He called out to Nat and Bucky, using their code names to prevent these cowards from learning their actual names and being able to track them down, “Thor, lets clean house.” Thor was the only one of them that didn’t have a code name, insisting that if the cops wanted to track him down then they were more than welcome to. He had a few questions for them about Loki’s murder.

“Right you are, Captain.” Thor replied gleefully, bringing his hammer up once more. Steve could see the red blood slick again the metal and splattered onto Thor’s face from the back spray.

Natasha and Bucky had gone after Sitwell, who at Steve’s instruction had managed to find his feet and start running. It was a fear response that drove him on foot through the dark maze of steel craters when his car was right in front of him. Even if he managed to get in it though he’d never had been able to leave in it, not whilst Steve had a gun in his hand and a bullet in the barrel.

Thor was currently decorating the pavement at his feet with blood and brain matter and Steve was more than happy to leave him to it as he focused on the gun taking him on. He wasn’t very well built and seemed around the same age as Steve. It was very unlikely that he’d been through half the shit Steve had though, he looked too green. Briefly, Steve wondered what Sitwell had told him to get him to come on a suicide mission to kill The Captain and destroy the Avengers. Was it money? Legacy? A high-ranking place in whatever new Hydra regiment was happening?

None of it would matter all that much when Steve killed him.

“If you want, I’ll let you get a shot in.” Steve offered with a deadly smile, “Then you can die happy knowing you at least managed to draw some blood tonight.”

The guy looked at him with wide eyes, unsure and holding onto his gun with a vice like grip. He was holding it too tight, that grip must be killing his arm. Steve held up his hands, gun in his left with the barrel pointed out to the side like a sign of surrender.

“Go ahead,” Steve smiled, “This is your moment of glory.”

The Hydra goon seemed frozen, his eyes stuck on Steve like a deer caught in a lion’s trap, “You know what, you’re new at this. Let me talk you through it. You want to loosen up that grip on your gun, your palm must be sweating like crazy and in a few minutes your arm is going to start feeling so heavy you aren’t sure if you’ll even be able to hold it up let alone fire it.” Steve watched as the guy relaxed his grip a fraction, “That’s good. Okay, now plant your feet apart a little more. Firm your ground, at least look like you’re going to fire it. No one is going to take you seriously standing like that, Jesus.”

The guy moved his feet further part, still raising his gun and Steve almost wanted to smile at the effort he was putting in, “Now target. You want it to be a kill shot, Kid because I swear to you, if I’m still breathing after you shoot me, I’ll make sure I live long enough to watch you die first. You want a head shot or a heart shot? Personal preference. Head’s messier, a gun that size? Bullet’s gonna blow a hole the size of a grapefruit out the back of my skull if you do this right.” Steve told him, “Heart shot takes more skill. You need to aim it just right to get it between the ribs. You hit a rib and I’m going keep on coming.”

The Kid was sweating now, he was vibrating with the effort to stay still. Steve watched as the gun in his palm quivered. He almost wanted to feel sorry for the Kid. This was getting tragic. “Alright, shoot me.” He smiled, a twinkle in his blue eyes that was nothing short of dangerous.

The Hydra goon made another mistake as he pulled the trigger, he squeezed his eyes shut as he braced for the recoil. Steve watched him close his eyes a fraction of a second before he squeezed the trigger and that was all it took. The bullet tore from the gun and Steve was already on the move. The bullet sailed past his shoulder and hit his bike again, Steve could hear metal strike metal in a distant ping behind him as he charged at his opponent. He ducked under the kid’s arm, coming up behind him as he opened his eyes to see the damage he had caused.

Steve had the weapon out of his hand and in his own palm before the kid could never register what was happening. With an arm braced across his chest and his own gun pressed against his neck, Steve could feel him shudder in fear. He was at least a head taller than him, lowering his face down so he could speak directly into his opponent’s ear, “You don’t take your eyes off your target until you’re sure he stops breathing.” Steve told him gently before pulling the trigger.

The bullet lodged into the guy’s neck, thick blood oozing out of the wound and onto Steve’s skin as he let the body fall to the floor. He kept his eyes on the body, watching the last twitches of life bleed out onto the cold concrete beneath him before he straightened himself out again and drew his eyes back to Thor.

His friend was cleaning the blood off his weapon of choice, clearly having no issue about the blood soaking under his feet or the mess of bodies he’d left in his wake of destruction.

“These people are a waste of energy.” Thor commented once his hammer was clean enough for his liking.

Steve sighed, “Someone gave them the order to attack us though, and I’d quite like to find out who that is.”

“We might be able to help with that.” Bucky called out; he was dragging Sitwell back into the clearing by his ankles. Natasha followed closely behind them as she twirled a knife around her fingers with a coy smile.

Sitwell was pleading and snivelling and honestly, Steve was tempted to put a bullet in him just to shut him up but he wanted answers first, “Get him up against the car.” Steve ordered with a scowl, pocketing the gun in his hands into his jacket.

Bucky did as instructed, pushing Sitwell’s face against the headlight with his palm on his head as Steve made his way over, “Hope he didn’t give you any trouble?” He asked Natasha, never taking his eyes off the coward in Bucky’s grip.

Nat shrugged, “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“Well he shot my bike and made me kill a perfectly nice kid tonight so he needs to answer for that.” Steve responded. Sitwell started pleading again, his voice muffled as Bucky pushed him harder against the car headlight.

“Start talking!” Bucky growled out, “Unless you want Thor to give you a little makeover?”

Thor hummed behind Steve, “Shall I break his kneecaps, Captain?”

“Maybe later,” Steve answered, “For now, he’s going to talk to me, aren’t you Sitwell?”

Sitwell spat, “I don’t know anything.”

“You know who’s taking over Hydra.” Steve mused, “Tell me and I’ll make sure when I tell this story, you’ll come out more heroic than you actually were.”

“I don’t know!” Sitwell cried out, “I know he’s ex-army. I know he has plans. He wants your patch, Captain. He wants you gone and he’ll stop at nothing to get it.”

Steve frowned, “Well, if that’s all you know I guess I have no more use for you.”

“Wait!” Sitwell cried, “I know that whatever his plan is, he’s recruiting for it. He has big things in place. He wants to hit you where you live. He wants to watch the downfall of the King of Brooklyn; he wants to kill everyone in your family while you watch.”

Steve crouched down then, getting lower to meet Sitwell’s eye level, “If he wants my throne and my family, he’ll have to kill me for them.” Steve spat out, “Too bad you won’t be around to help him.” Steve grabbed the knife from Natasha’s palm with a practiced ease and slide it in under Sitwell’s jaw as Bucky held him steady. Steve watched as the knife disappeared upwards, pushing firmly as blood poured out of Sitwell’s mouth and down his chin.

He was dead in minutes. It was a waste of ambition and stupidity and Steve almost wanted to mourn him.

He didn’t though. He stood, withdrawing the knife and offering it back to Natasha.

“You got blood on my knife.” She commented with a smirk as she took it back.

Steve smiled, “I’ll buy you a new one.” He promised.

The calm moment in the cold was disturbed by the sound of Steve’s phone. The muffled ringtone blaring in his pocket against the silence of the night. The sound bounced off the steel craters as he dug it out and frowned at the unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Yeah?” He answered, stepping away from the group as he waited for an response.

“Cap, we have a situation here.” It was Clint’s voice, tinny but firm.

Steve sighed, “You’re damn right we do. I tell you to show up, you show up.”

“I’ve been arrested, Cap. The police at holding me for murder. Some body down at the docks. It’s bullshit.” Clint breathed and Steve felt his stomach drop.

He breathed out harshly, “Have you called the lawyer?”

“Yeah, I’m calling from Murdock’s phone right now. They can’t ID me, my fingerprints don’t have a match to their system but their trying to pin this body on us, Cap. I haven’t said anything, I swear.” Clint replied over the phone.

Steve nodded, “I know, Hawkeye. Listen to Murdock, don’t say anything, okay? They won’t find a file on you because you don’t exist. No trail, electronic or paper. Give me two hours tops, I’ll get you out.”

Clint sighed down the phone, Steve could tell it was out of relief, “I didn’t mean to miss the meeting, Cap.”

“Don’t worry. We handled it. Two hours, alright? Get ready to walk out of there.” Steve promised before ending the call.

All eyes were on him when he turned back around. Natasha’s were wide and frantic. Clint meant a lot to her, they had come as a package deal and had since they were kids as far as Steve knew, “Hawkeye?” She breathed and Steve watched Bucky take a step towards her like he wanted to comfort her before remembering they weren’t together anymore and stopping himself.

“Police picked him up for murder.” Steve sighed, “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to get him out, trust me?”

She nodded, “Okay. What can I do?”

That was one of the best things about Natasha in Steve’s opinion. That unwavering trust she placed in him, like she knew he’d sort it somehow. “Winter, I need you to get rid of the bodies. Discreetly and permanently. Widow, get that car out of here and ditch it. Get my bike back to base and get someone in to fix it. I want it done before we have another run in with Hydra.” They both nodded and Bucky was already leaning down to move Sitwell’s body, “Thor, can you head down to the docks? They pulled him because of a body they think belongs to us. I need to know the details. Report back to me with what you find, okay?”

“Of course, Captain.” Thor replied and he was off as well.

“What are you going to do?” Nat asked with as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Steve gave her a small smile he hoped was encouraging, “Make a phone call then go and get our archer.”

“It’s the middle of the night.” She pointed out.

“Lucky for us, politicians never stop working.” Steve replied over his shoulder as he passed his bike to head out, already dialling a number into his phone.

No one messed with his family, not even the police.


	2. Chapter 2

“You can’t keep me locked up without evidence!” Clint’s voice echoed in the empty interrogation room with biting injustice. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the inside of a room like this and he knew it probably wouldn’t be the last.

That didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for them.

He was so tired he felt it in his bones, having been up early that morning to scout the new meeting spot as a favour for Steve. He’d forgotten to have his morning coffee fix as well so he was running on no caffeine. It was his own fault; he had heard sobs coming from Natasha’s room – which was next to his – and Clint was up like a shot. It was a nightmare that had her calling out in a way she never would have done if she were conscious. Natasha prided herself on her thick skin and Clint knew if it had been anyone else but him that had gone to check on her, she would have been mortified.

Natasha was his family, before he got Steve and the rest of the Avengers, it had always just been him and Tasha. He remembered those days fondly despite the struggle they both had endured before Steve had found them and offered them a home. Natasha was a small strip of a girl at the age of fifteen. Brilliant red hair that grew in matted curls down her back and a smile that invited you in before becoming deadly. They had become instant friends, which was a first for both of them considering how they were raised but they had both been on their own for a while and had both been at a crossroads on where to go next. Clint was a few years older than Tasha, a point she never failed to let him forget, and if he took one look at her bare dirty feet, almost black from the grit of the pavements and decided he was going to give this girl one person at least that she could rely on then Clint figured he couldn’t be held to blame for that. As it turned out, when they had met Steve several years later, they had both gained more than each other to trust and for that alone Clint would always be grateful for the tortured soul that was Steve Rogers.

He was a quiet man but sharp as a tac with a wit to match. Clint would never stop marvelling at how serious and grave their Captain could be one minute and how witty he could be the next. He always felt a pang of sadness at the thought that no one outside their little group would ever see that side of Steve. The side that wasn’t all hard lines and deadly edges but the side that loved them all with a fierceness Clint could barely fathom. The press and the cops always painted Steve out to be dangerous and they weren’t wrong but that wasn’t the whole picture either.

Steve would come for him, like he promised he would. It was nearing on one in the morning now so Clint had no more than another hour to waste staring at the drab grey walls and the dark two-way glass before a cop came in to tell him he was free to go with an annoyed expression. Clint would smile wide and joyful, because had they really not expected The Captain to protect his own? And he’d stretch his limbs, flip them off and stroll out of the precinct with his head high.

The feeling of being untouchable.

“I know you can hear me!” Clint continued to shout, eyes on the two-way mirror, “I know you’re watching.”

It couldn’t have been more than two minutes later when the door to the small room opened and two cops walked in. Clint smiled; they had been listening. They were clearly high-level cops, in suits instead of uniforms. The first one looked at tired as Clint felt, his grey suit rumpled from what was probably a long day and a coffee cup clutched into his hand like a lifeline, under his arm was a file.

The other cop commanded the room immediately, he was large and imposing. Not in the way Steve was but in a different way. Something subtler and harder to read. It was the eye-patch over his left eye that caused Clint to stall. That was different. His suit was nicely pressed and black, his hands free as he shut the door behind him and went to sit down next to his colleague. His good eye never left Clint, still standing near his side of the table, as his friend fussed about with the file in his hands.

“Take a seat.” Eye-Patch stated into the room that left no space for discussion.

Clint watched him as he pulled out his chair and made himself comfortable, the lines on his face were stern and Clint could tell, even without the eye-patch, that this guy had seen some shit. Hadn’t they all?

“I’m DI Fury,” Eye-Patch introduced himself before gesturing to his partner, “This is DI Rhodes.” The man gave him a small nod and went back to his file, “He’s nice. I’m not.”

Clint let out a chuckle, “You rehearse that?”

“Every night before bed.” Fury quipped. Rhodes handed him a few photos which Fury took, taking a moment to study each other before slamming the first one on the table in Clint’s direction. It was a body, close up on a guy’s face that was pale and deadly still.

“Are we playing guess who?” Clint asked with confusion.

Fury pressed the photo closer to him, “This is PC Bennett. A good man, wife and two kids at home, been on the force for five years now. He was murdered this morning.”

Clint studied the photo again before Fury slapped down another one on top. This one was of the same man, Bennett, but this time it was a wide shot of his body laid out on the pavement. His shirt was torn open from his body to reveal his chest, a mass of red scars cut deep into the skin.

Fury slapped down another photo, this one a close up shot of the mark carved into his body. Clint paled at the familiar ‘A’ embedded into this man with blood.

“That’s your mob tag, isn’t it?” Fury demanded, “Carved into the chest of one of our officers?”

Clint leaned back, “Killing cops isn’t our style.”

“Maybe your style changed.” Rhodes cut in, “The body was found at the docks. Your Captain is known to do frequent business there.”

Fury slapped down another photo. A bullet wound in Bennett’s head, “Execution style. That sounds more like The Avengers to me.”

“So, here’s what we think,” Rhodey supplied, “Stop me when I get it wrong. Your Captain is doing his seedy business at the docks, our PC stumbles across it. Wrong place, wrong time and you guys can’t get let him go. That would be sloppy so one of you puts a bullet in his head.”

Clint shook his head with a smile, “And then we cut his shirt open and carved our tag into his skin? That’s a dumb move for someone trying to cover up a murder.”

“Autopsy shows the mark was carved into him whilst he was still alive.” Fury bit out and Clint could see the glint in his eye. Cops protect their own. Just like Steve did.

Anytime now, Rogers.

“I’m telling you; I don’t know anything about this. We’re too busy with the other gangs to worry about the cops.” Clint replied. It was the truth; Steve had never called out a hit on a cop. They normally didn’t have the balls to hit the gang war in Brooklyn and Steve never went after someone who didn’t come after them first. It was just polite business.

Fury collected the photos back up, “Okay, how about you tell us why when we ran your prints, we didn’t get a hit.”

“I’m a good boy?” Clint tried.

Rhodes narrowed his eyes, “A cop is dead so why don’t you try and take this seriously. I know The Captain protects his people, no one knows your names only your faces and let’s face it, even with your picture on file we still can’t find out who are you but I swear to you, if you had anything to do with this, we’ll come for you.”

“You don’t want to start with the threats, Rhodes was it?” Clint snapped back, “You’re clearly clued up on gang knowledge so that means you know what happens to anyone who comes after The Captain or his people.”

“Is that what happened with Bennett?” Fury asked.

Clint sighed, “I’m telling you, that wasn’t us. Think about it, it’s sloppy, when have we ever carved a mark into a victim? When have we ever killed anyone who wasn’t already a bad guy?” He pressed further, “If your boy was squeaky clean then you know it wasn’t The Avengers.”

“I’m still holding your ass here over night.” Fury told him.

Clint bit his tongue at that. Steve was coming for him. Less than an hour and Steve was nothing if not a man of his word. He kicked his legs up on the table, making a show of settling in for a long night and in his head he started counting the tiles on the ceiling.

Steve was coming for him.

/

To Steve’s relief the phone picked up after the third ring, a gruff voice answering, “What do you want?” into the line, surprisingly alert given the hour Steve was calling at.

Steve smirked, “I figured you’d still be up. You always did burn the midnight oil.”

“I’m up and I’m busy working on this proposal so if you need something…”

“T’challa, is that anyway to speak to an old friend?” Steve cut him off. The wind was biting against his cheek as he crossed the deserted street, pushing the phone tighter to his ear.

T’challa huffed and Steve could imagine him scrubbing a hand over his face, “You’re not calling me to speak to an old friend, Captain.”

“You’re right. I need a favour.” Steve replied grimly.

“No, not after the last one.” T’Challa replied firmly, “I’ve got the re-election campaign coming up in a few months. I can’t be associating with mobsters.”

Steve frowned, “You owe me, T’challa. It was my gentle persuasion that got you into office in the first place and you know if you help me, I’ll make sure it stays that way. My people will vote how I tell them to and I’ll back your re-election fully.”

“Steve, you know I’m grateful for your endorsement but I’m a Congressman now. I can’t just bend the rules to accommodate the local gang.” T’challa sighed.

Steve held the phone tighter, trying to rein in his frustration, “No one even needs to know it was you. You have pull with the head of the NYPD, I know you go to weekly garden parties together or whatever. They have Clint in custody for murder. Not one of mine, you know I’m not that sloppy.”

“Why do they think it’s you?”

“I have no idea,” He puffed out cold air, “Look, tonight I’ve been ambushed by Hydra, shot at, and found out one of my team is in police custody so I’m asking you as a friend to help me fix this.”

“You were shot at!” T’challa said, his voice more alert now.

Steve knew that would get his attention, “I’m fine. He’s not. Clint needs us.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line and Steve knew T’challa was weighing up his options.

He’d help, he owed Steve. T’Challa was an ambitious politician, he had a good education and better ideas but no one would vote for an underdog from the back alleys of Brooklyn. Steve had been fairly new to leading The Avengers back then and he personally endorsed T’challa, openly talking about his merit in bars and in front of his people. They had grown up together, these streets were their playground. These alleys were their arenas. Steve and Bucky went off to fight in Afghanistan and T’challa had gone away for school but somehow, they had all managed to make it back to the streets they once called home.

“I’ll make a few calls.” T’challa agreed, “I’ll get him released within the hour. I’ll tell them it’s for the good of the people, no one wants to see what The Captain looks like when the police start targeting his own men. If they don’t have any proof to place Clint at the murder then they won’t be able to press charges anyway.”

Steve allowed himself a moment of relief, “Thank you.”

“We’ve come a long way from being those kids in Brooklyn, haven’t we?” T’challa sighed, “Sometimes I miss those days.”

“You should stop by the house. Bucky will be happy to share a drink and a few memories with you.” Steve replied.

He could hear T’challa’s smile through the phone, “That’s probably not the best idea. That’s the world we have resigned ourselves to, Steve. You can walk in my world and people call it business but if I walk in yours?”

“People call it criminal.” Steve nodded, “Sometimes I feel like it’s the rest of the world and their conventions that are the real problem.”

“Isn’t that why we do what we do?”

“I’m not sure it makes much of a difference.”

T’challa’s voice grew firm then, “It does. If you weren’t standing in the way of Hydra then Brooklyn would be overrun by now. I’ll take The Captain over Hydra every day of the week.”

Steve smiled, “Thanks. I gotta go get Clint. Take care, T’challa. I want a badge from the election campaign.”

“Be careful, Steve.” T’challa replied before the end went dead.

It was less than thirty minutes later that Clint was walking out of the precinct with a high head and squared shoulders. He made a display of throwing his hands out wide and smelling the air before his eyes found Steve and he headed towards his Captain. Steve was leaning back against a car, hands crossed over his head, keeping his distance from the station but not wanting Clint to be alone.

“Thanks for that, it was getting rough in there.” Clint greeted when he approached Steve, making himself comfortable against the same car.

Steve smiled, “It was less than two hours.”

“Those cops were hard asses.” Clint replied, “They’re determined to get an arrest on this one.”

“Cops look after their own. I would want answers as well.” Steve nodded, “Did they say anything useful?”

Clint shook his head, “No evidence. Of course. Just our mark carved into their victim.”

“Someone branded him?” Steve asked with an eyebrow, “That’s new.”

“They branded him to look like our victim.”

“That’s stupid,” Steve commented with a scowl, “Why would we advertise who we kill?”

“That’s what I said!”

Steve knew he would need to look into this one, if someone was trying to pin cop killings on them then he couldn’t just let that go. The cops would be all over this and Steve didn’t need the hassle. It had to be Hydra. No one else in Brooklyn would be bold enough to go after a cop. That brought him back to the new leader and whatever plan he had to destroy the family, “I need you to take a few days. Lay low, don’t come to the house until this blows over. I called a favour from T’challa to get you out so you need to be clean if the cops are still watching you.”

Clint nodded, “I figured as much. I could use a holiday anyway. We can’t let this one go though, the cops sure won’t.”

“I have Thor at the docks right now, I’ll see what he finds and go from there. I think it’s Hydra though. It has to be.”

“Sitwell isn’t smart enough to cook this up.” Clint mused.

Steve gave him a sideways glance, “Sitwell’s done. Bucky’s throwing his body in the ocean as we speak. Apparently, Hydra has a new King.”

“Sounds like I missed a hell of a meeting,” Clint said gently, he turned then to look at Steve, “So Hydra’s coming for us now?”

“I think so.” Steve sighed, “There could be a gang war on the streets of Brooklyn before Christmas.”

Clint rubbed his palms together, trying to get himself warm, “Well, if this guy is dumb enough to take on the King of Brooklyn then he deserves everything we’re going to give him.

Somehow Steve didn’t think killing this new guy would be as easy as killing Sitwell. That thought alone had him clenching his jaw and balling his hands into fists from inside his pockets.

/

Steve wasn’t having a good day. He was running on three hours sleep, and he could now add doing the cops jobs for them on his list of things to do this week. He was tired and irritated by the time he made it back to his home base in the heart of Brooklyn. Steve wanted nothing more than a drink, a cheeseburger and a shower. He was pretty sure there was still blood on his neck despite the fact he had cleaned up his hands before he came home. A shower would have to be first, then.

Natasha was waiting for him when he pushed the front door open leaning against the wall like she knew he was coming, “You look like shit.” She commented with a quirked eyebrow.

Steve huffed a laugh, “Long day.”

“Hawkeye?”

He shrugged off his leather jacket and dumped it on the nearest chair, “Fine. I gave him a few days off, told him to lay low.”

Natasha nodded, “Thanks.”

Nat and Clint were close, Steve had recruited them to his side together. Two punks stealing to get by and making a name for themselves as guns for hire. They seemed to think he was worth the loyalty though because Steve had never had the need to doubt them and knew both would have his back in a fight.

“Buck?” Steve asked as he scratched a hand over his beard wearily.

“Not back yet, he said something about a redhead.” Natasha shrugged, “Said not to wait up.”

Steve sighed, “You okay with that?”

Bucky and Nat had been a thing once, in the early days when Steve’s empire had been no more than a few blocks of territory in Brooklyn and he had a handful of people on his payroll. Now, his reach extended throughout most of the city. His city. The police mockingly called him ‘The King of Brooklyn’. Everyone else just called him ‘The Captain’. Nat and Bucky had split up over something, Steve never asked what because he knew it was none of his business but he knew Natasha was hurt and Bucky was angry and now they seemed to be actively avoiding each other despite living in the same house.

Natasha tilted her head at the question, “We aren’t together anymore. It doesn’t matter to me who he screws.”

She closed up on the subject then, her body going stiff and her eyes cold and Steve knew she was done talking about this, “Can you let me know when Thor gets back from the docks? I want to know what he finds.”

“Will do,” Nat replied as Steve brushed past her to head to his office for a drink, “What should I do about the mechanic?”

Steve paused on the first step, “What mechanic?”

“The one I called to fix your bike? You said you wanted it sorted before your next meeting with Hydra so I found the best Mechanic this side of Manhattan. He’s in the garage right now.” She explained.

Steve turned in that direction, “Alone?”

“Of course not. Sam’s babysitting.” Natasha replied with a smile, “I can kick him out and tell him to come back tomorrow?”

“It’s fine, I’ll see how long he’s going to be. As long as he’s out of here before Thor gets back. I don’t like ears I don’t know.” Steve replied, heading out the back of the house towards the steps that led to the garage.

The sight that greeted him in the garage wasn’t what Steve was expecting. He nodded to Sam on the stairs, effectively relieving him from his duty and letting him go upstairs for some food. Steve continued down the steps where the sound of rock music was playing, softly enough to not be heard outside this room but loud enough to seem out of place with the rest of the house. Steve spotted the Mechanic instantly, a flash of dark hair bend over his motorbike as he hummed to himself and twisted a spanner around one of the bolts.

The garage itself stretched out through the whole lowest level of the Brooklyn mansion the served as Steve’s home base. A collection of vintage cars spanned across the furthest corner of the room, a personal hobby of Steve’s and a massive collection. T’challa had always been envious of it, Steve had even gifted him one after he got into Congress as a congratulations. The rest of the garage was unused space for the most part. Occasionally it was home to interrogations when Steve needed, there was a dried patch of blood on the floor by the stairs from one such case. Steve hated to get blood anywhere else in the house. The garage was abandoned saved from the vehicles and it was underground which made it soundproof enough to be perfect for torture.

Steve went to the music system in the corner, clicking the pause button which got his guest’s attention.

Dark eyes matched the dark hair as they peered at Steve with a scowl, “That song is legendary, cutting it off is a crime.”

“Not the first one I’ve committed today, I assure you.” Steve grinned, crossing his arms over his chest to appear more threatening.

The Mechanic didn’t seem to be concerned, “That explains your face paint. Red’s not exactly your colour.”

Steve’s hand instantly went to the dried blood on his neck before he realised what he was doing. Why did he care what this stranger thought?

“Do you know who I am?” Steve asked instead, watching as the Mechanic grabbed a wrench and went back to work on the bike in front of him.

He hummed, “The Captain, right? King of Brooklyn? The most feared gang leader in New York.” He didn’t seem bothered by that knowledge and Steve found himself frowning at the unusual response, “Bike’s almost done. I made some upgrades, more power on the throttle. Your gauge was completely off as well but I fixed that.”

Steve was trying not to show how shocked he was as the Mechanic continued his work on the bike, “It doesn’t bother you that you’re working for me?”

“Should it? Business is business, right? And you’re paying me double what I’d normally charge for this work. Besides, this bike is a beauty. I can see why you wanted her fixed rather than replacing her.” He replied with a flash of white teeth in Steve’s direction.

Steve allowed himself a smile then, “It was the first thing I brought when I started making real money. An old ally, if you like. Got me out of a few tough scraps in the past.”

“Looks like you got a few more in since then.” He replied with a glance over at the classic cars in the corner.

Steve brushed a hand over the hair on his jaw, “I like cars. When I was a kid I wanted to be a getaway driver.”

“Well then, once I’m done here I can guarantee she’ll be able to keep getting you out of tough spots for a good while yet.”

Steve should have left the conversation there but he couldn’t help himself, “You got a name?”

“Everyone’s got a name.” The Mechanic quipped back, eyes on the bike.

Steve let out a chuckle, “You want to tell me what it is?”

“Tony.” Those brown eyes were playful and Steve found himself drawn to them. He wanted to grab a sketchbook and try to commit them to the page, “You?”

“I thought you already knew it.” Steve mused.

Tony scoffed, “No one knows your name, just your titles. Your reputation.”

“Then I must be doing something right.” Steve commented as Tony turned to look through the toolbox to his left.

Tony hummed again, “Or something wrong. Seems a little lonely to me.”

“People who know my name don’t tend to live very long.” Steve replied, the weight of the threat in the air but Tony seemed to breeze past it.

“You don’t happen to have a flathead screwdriver, think I left mine at the shop.” He replied instead of acknowledging the statement.

Steve pulled a knife out of his boot, “Will this do?” He asked offering it out to Tony.

Tony seemed to just stare at him for a moment and shook his head with a smile, “Let’s find out. Of course you have a knife in your boot. Is there a gun in your pants as well?”

“Maybe I’m just happy to see you?” Steve flirted before he could stop himself. Tony paused then, one eyebrow raised and Steve could feel himself flushing. God, he was one of the most feared people in New York and he was turning red at a stranger.

Tony flashed him a dirty smile that went straight to Steve’s dick, “Well, I’ll be happy to take you up on that offer as soon as I’m done here.”

Steve blanched, did he just? What that an offer at sex? Steve wanted to stride over there and pin Tony to the nearest wall but he also knew what a terrible idea that would be. He knew nothing about the man and he definitely couldn’t allow him to spend the night here, in Steve’s bed, and put the family at risk. Why was he even considering this?

“You got a family?” Steve asked trying to gain control of himself.

Tony was back to his work, “Nope. Well, my dad’s a dick so I left home at eighteen and never looked back. So now I’m a mechanic, no press, no pressure.”

Steve frowned, “Press?”

“You ever heard of Stark Industries?”

“As in the weapon’s manufacturer?” Steve asked, “Howard Stark? Wait, Tony as in Tony Stark?”

Tony sighed and stood up, fishing a rag out of his back pocket to wipe his hands, “One and the same. Before you think about kidnapping me or whatever, don’t bother. I don’t deal with my dad or the business anymore. I haven’t spoken to him in years and I prefer it that way. I’m just a mechanic.”

“Relax, no one is kidnapping you.” Steve hurriedly pointed out, “I don’t need missiles or whatever. Not really my speed.”

Tony frowned, “You kill people, what’s the difference?”

“I kill bad people. People who are a threat to me or my family.” Steve pointed out, “I don’t sell weapons on the black market in order to cause the most destruction.”

“Well, at least you understand why I left.” Tony nodded, shoving the rag into his pocket again.

Steve had met Howard a few times, at conventions and galas and he knew that Howard Stark built weapons. More importantly, to the right buyer he’d sell them to whoever had the most to offer. “A lonely life?”

Tony shrugged, “Better than being forced to build weapons.”

Steve understood that, he uncrossed his arms as his eyes moved from Tony to his newly fixed bike, “You did a good job on this.”

The Mechanic smirked, “Well, I am a genius. Don’t look so surprised.” He bent down to pick up Steve’s knife, twirling it around his fingers as he walked over to Steve. Tony offered it to him handle up with a soft smile and those deep brown eyes that Steve knew would be on his mind of days.

He took the knife from Tony’s fingers, slipping it back into his boot before standing straight again. They had gone closer. Close enough that Steve could see the gold flecked in Tony’s eyes and the smear of oil on his cheek. He could see where the hair fell over his forehead and the glisten of sweat on his tanned skin. Steve swallowed thickly.

Tony was watching him as well, neither one seemingly wanting to tear their eyes away from each other as the tension around them crackled. Tony pulled a small white card from his pocket and held it up to Steve, “My number, in case you need me to look at that bike again.”

Steve took it eagerly, “Just for the bike?” He asked roughly, eyes challenging.

“Call me and find out.” Tony challenged right back.

Steve couldn’t help the smirk on his face as he reached out to grab Tony and pull him forward. Their mouths met in a teasing dance, Steve’s fingers burning into the fabric at Tony’s hips as he opened up Tony’s mouth and slid his tongue in. Tony’s hands were on his neck, threading into his hair as he tried to get closer, every line of his body melting into Steve’s.

He nipped at Steve’s lip and Steve actually groaned, pulling Tony in further as one of his hands slid up to cup Tony’s cheek, flicking his tongue out in response.

“Cap! Thor’s back!” It was Sam’s voice that shouted down to the garage and caused Steve to remember himself and pull back.

Tony was breathing heavily and looking a little dazed and Steve couldn’t help but smirk at being the cause of that, “I’ll be right up!” Steve called towards the stairs.

He winked at Tony playfully before taking a few steps backwards, “I’ll have Natasha show you out. It was nice to meet you, Tony.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair, “Uh, you too… Cap.”

“Steve.” Steve offered, unsure why he did it other than wanting to hear how it sounded coming from Tony’s lips.

“Does that mean I’m going to get killed tonight?” Tony asked with a smile.

Steve laughed, “That means I’ll see you around.”

“I don’t even get a last name?”

“Not much of a secret if I go around giving people my full name, is it?” Steve pointed out, “Besides you don’t even know if I gave you my actual first name.”

Tony laughed, “This whole man of mystery thing is going to get old fast.”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Steve smirked cockily and was rewarded with a playful twinkle in Tony’s chocolate eyes.

Tony nodded and Steve could feel his eyes on his ass as he climbed the stairs to the main house. He almost threw a glance at Tony over his shoulder but held back. He wasn’t a goddamn teenager anymore.

One thing Steve knew for sure as he shoved Tony’s card into his pocket, he’d definitely be seeing Tony again. Even if he had to break that damn bike himself to need a mechanic to fix it.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor was waiting in the entryway when Steve got to the main part of the house, leaving Tony to pack away his tools downstairs. Steve tried not to think of the press of Tony’s mouth, warm and plaint under his own as he made a beeline for Natasha who was making a peanut butter sandwich in the kitchen. It was a brash impulse situation to kiss Tony, a stranger he barely knew but Steve had been overcome by the mechanic. All that sass and dark hair wrapped up like a ribbon and dropped onto Steve’s doorstep, it was just icing on the cake that Tony had flirted back. Steve prided himself on being able to read people, to be able to work out the atmosphere of a room and use it to his advantage and Tony’s body language was practically inviting him in. He found himself wanting to know more about him but instantly brushed that notion off. It was one thing to go to a bar and pick up a stranger every now and again, Bucky would even say it was healthy for Steve to let off some steam, but this was different. Tony had been in his house; he had told him his damn name. Normally, he’d just say as The Captain or give a fake name to pretend at intimacy but when Tony had asked Steve had offered up a small token of truth without a thought. Tony wouldn’t be able to figure that he was Steve Rogers, of course. There were plenty of Steve’s in Brooklyn and thanks to a large sum of money and a whiz kid from Arizona, Steve Rogers didn’t exist on paper or online anymore. He was a dead man on foreign soil. Left to rot a long time ago.

“Make sure our new friend finds his way out,” Steve asked Natasha as he breezed past her, “And tip him extra.” He was moving again before Natasha could utter a word or even look up from her sandwich. She’d handle it, she always did.

Thor was still a bloody mess after their ambush, flaked blood splattered onto his face and mixed into his beard. Steve didn’t envy him, cleaning dried blood out of a beard was never a fun experience and more than once Clint had suggested Steve just shave the damn thing off. He never did though, The Captain had a face that everyone knew and Steve needed to make sure it was as different from his old self as possible. Natasha wasn’t a fan, she said it made him look older. Steve never had the heart to reminder her he was older, they both were.

“Come on, let’s get a drink.” Steve called out to Thor as he motioned for the man to follow him up the stairs. Thor nodded, never one to pass up a beer, leaving his hammer propped up by the front door like an umbrella next to a coat rack.

They climbed the winding dark wood stairs together, heading for the top of the house. The mansion itself was one of the older Brooklyn estates, built in the 1800s and left to fall into disarray over the years. It was one of the first things Steve had brought after becoming the leader of The Avengers and had fixed it up himself along with the help of the rest of the gang in order to allow it to become both a home and a base of operations. Phillips, who had ran the gang before Steve and who had taken Steve to be his right hand in all gang related matters, had operated out of a warehouse near the docks. Steve still owned it but now it served as a cargo hold. Phillips had made The Avengers a gang and given them a reputation but Steve had made them a family.

The Captain took the attic, partly because he liked his privacy and partly because the view of the sunset from the attic was stunning and Steve always itched to draw it. His bedroom, office and a private bathroom where all on that floor and while he often found Clint making use of his office in the dead of night as a vantage point or Bucky using his bathroom when Natasha had claimed the one of their floor for a bubble bath, for the most part the attic was his space to breathe. A place where The Captain could slump his shoulders and not have to worry about what eyes saw him and mistook his actions for weakness.

The next floor was for Clint, Natasha and Bucky and they had their own bathroom as well. Clint had a box room at the end of the hall which he said he wanted because the window looked out over downtown Brooklyn and he always liked a good vantage point. Natasha’s was the biggest, it seemed like a no brainer to everyone involved that she would need it and so no one battered an eyelid when she had moved all her stuff in. Bucky’s was on the other side of her, a messy tornado of dirty clothes and empty plates that never seemed to find their way down to the kitchen. Steve always shook his head at that, some things never changed.

Thor and Bruce had the next floor down. There was a spare room there for Sam, if and when he needed it, but mostly he stayed in the apartment over the bar. Bruce was the only doctor crazy enough to allow Steve to pay him to stitch them all up with no questions asked and absolute discretion. In return, Steve promised to never ask Bruce to represent the gang in the field. He’d taken an oath to do no harm and Steve knew he took it seriously. He was a brilliant doctor and sometimes Steve felt a little selfish to have taken him away from the hospital but Bruce was on the verge of getting fired when Steve found him so at least this way he was able to keep his license and help people in some capacity. Even if those people were questionable characters at best and murders at worst.

Steve ushered Thor into his office when they reached the attic, already heading for the whiskey he kept on his shelf and two glasses and Thor made himself comfortable on the small leather couch Steve had placed in the corner of the room.

“Tell me what you found?” Steve asked as he poured a generous helping of alcohol into each glass.

Thor sighed, “The police have locked down the area, the coroner hadn’t arrived when I left but it is as we feared. Someone is killing policemen and making it look like us. Our symbol was carved into the man’s chest with a knife judging from what I could see of the pattern. The amount of police there spoke volumes, Captain, they are using everything they have with this one.”

“It has to be Hydra.” Steve said, passing Thor his glass and settling back into his desk chair.

Thor took a sip before speaking, “I fear so. Whoever has taken over clearly want to send a message to you.”

“He wants us running scared. He wants the police on our ass so we can’t make a move and then I suspect the endgame will be to start picking us off one at a time.” Steve growled bitterly. Hydra had always been a pain in his ass, ever seen Phillips’ time in charge. Back then it had been a man called Schmidt in charge and killing him had put Steve in the position of right-hand man to the leader of The Avengers. When Phillips died, he had naturally assumed the role and set about recruiting his own people to get revenge.

Phillips got comfortable and complacent. He was cocky and arrogant and it got him killed. Steve wasn’t about to make that same mistake.

Thor broke through his thoughts, “Shall we take them down?”

“We don’t want to make the first move. We don’t want to be the reason a war between gangs break out. Innocent people will get caught in the crossfire and keeping you all safe in a warzone isn’t something I can easily guarantee.” Steve replied, “We need to turn the tide on this one.”

“I don’t understand.”

Steve took his own sip, the liquid burning his throat on the way down, “We need to point the police back at Hydra. Get them to start sniffing around that gang instead. They won’t be able to make a move under scrutiny like that without risking arrest and we’d be free to launch our own defence if they tried anything.”

Thor nodded, “Divide and conquer. How do we get the police focus off us and onto them?”

“By looking into the investigation and finding something that points to Hydra.” Steve replied with a smile.

He had experience with this. Back in the army, all those missions on foreign soil where they had to work quickly, he developed a skill for seeing things other people couldn’t. A shift in the soil that looked recent could suggest a hole was dug up in the ground for an IUD. A downwards pull of a coat that looked like it was weighed down by heavy pockets could mask a bomb underneath. It was all in the little details, the small things that didn’t add up. Anyone could see the evidence staring right at them but it took a trained eye to spot the small things that didn’t fit with the scene.

/

Steve started looking into it the next morning. He had showered and fell into a restless sleep for a few hours before giving up and moving back to his office to do some research. He had paid a cop off, he had a few on his payroll for occasions like this and requested a copy of the case file which he had spent hours pouring over.

He examined the photos from the crime scene in meticulous detail, inch by inch. The body looked too staged and there was no blood or signs of a control at the docks so it had been placed there. Steve wondered if the police had worked that out already? They tended to be a bit slow. The mark itself was indeed the Avengers symbol, a large ‘A’ that had been first designed by Steve on a napkin at Phillip’s request for some kind of gang tag. The mark itself was sloppy and hastily done, clearly done while the victim was still alive and moving judging from the awkward shift in the lines and how some parts were deeper than others.

It was a bold move to carve their tag into his chest. It was both disturbing and cruel and it would be just the thing to rally the cops together to launch a manhunt. So far, the police mostly left the gang stuff alone. They all knew there was no hope for a conviction and no one wanted to be on a gang hit list but if someone was killing their own officers then that unspoken rule was null and void. They’d chuck everything they had at Steve and his family if they thought they had enough evidence.

What he really needed was to see the body. Photos could only show Steve so much and he wanted to know more. There was something dark under his nails in the photos, blood from his attacker maybe? Had the police checked it yet? There would also be marks on his back if the body had been dragged into police for someone to be able to find it but there weren’t any photos in the report of that either.

It must have been around noon when Steve had finished combing through everything the report had to offer, even going so far as to print out the written report of the crime scene so he could circle the key bits that might point to someone else having staged this. There was a size ten boot print a few yards away from the body that didn’t match the person who found him that could point at someone dumping him there but there was no way to prove it wasn’t Steve or anyone on his team.

When Bucky poked his head around the corner Steve had been planning on how to break into the morgue to see the body or the possibility of bribing a coroner for his report to see what they showed. His hand was moving of its own accord, as it always did when he was stressed, sketching in the corner of the crime scene file on his desk.

“Bruce cooked French toast.” Bucky stated, moving around the door to reveal a plate in his hands, “Managed to swipe you some before Thor got down.” He placed the plate on the edge of Steve’s desk.

“Thanks,” Steve replied, eyes moving away from his sketch to land on Bucky. He looked at tired as Steve did, “Late night?”

Bucky grinned, “The ladies love me.”

“I know it’s none of my business, Buck…”

“Then don’t say it.” He warned.

Steve ignored him, “But try and be discreet, okay? Tasha lives here too and I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”

“Her being uncomfortable? That’s rich.” Bucky sneered, “I’m not bringing anyone back here, Steve. Those are the house rules for all of us and I’ve stuck to them but Tasha knows why I broke up with her. She knows what she did. She doesn’t get a say anymore.”

“Just be careful, alright.” Steve pleaded.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze, eyes dropping to the corner of paper Steve was doodling on, “Anyone I know?” He asked.

Steve frowned and looked down; the sketch was hardly his best work. A pair of eyes, round and deep and rich twinkling at him for the paper. Tony’s eyes. He shifted awkwardly in his chair, “Just doodling.”

“Well, when you stop drawing Bambi eyes, this came for you early.” Bucky replied, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and passing it to Steve.

The Captain frowned, tearing into it and reading the note inside. There was a single line written on a piece of card in black marker. The handwriting was scruffy but it was clearly an invitation.

**We need to talk. Meet me at the docks at 2 – NF. **

Glancing at the clock on his computer Steve knew if he left soon, he’d still make it. He began to cover up all his paperwork in a heap to sort through later, getting to his feet whilst ignoring the pain in his back from sitting in that damn chair for hours on end.

Bucky frowned, “Where are you going?”

“Got a hunch.” Steve replied, “I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

He knew if he told Bucky the truth then he’d want to come with Steve for back up and honestly Steve wasn’t even sure who he was meeting so he didn’t want to put Bucky in danger by bringing him along. It was stupid enough for him to go but Steve never did like to think a situation through until his back was up against the wire, it was how he did his best work.

“What about breakfast?” Bucky called out as he moved past him to change. Steve whirled back, grabbed a piece of French toast of the plate Bucky had delivered and shoved it into his mouth before heading back to his bedroom.

Bucky grimaced, “Charming.”

/

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he arrived at the docks for two in the afternoon, his leather jacket on his frame to protect him for the biting cold of the day but it wasn’t to see Detective Inspector Fury waiting to greet him, looking out to the sea like he was enjoying a rare day off. Briefly Steve wondered whether this was a trap, the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans seemed like a tempting option but he held back. Fury wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble of secrecy and discretion to get Steve to meet him just to arrest him, especially not when he knew Steve would be out in a few hours.

Steve approached him slowly, shoulders back and relaxed as he came to a stop besides Fury. A cop and a mobster meet at the docks, Steve was sure there was a punchline somewhere lurking.

“Captain.” Fury greeted him, his tone wasn’t harsh or biting like Steve had expected but almost amicable.

Steve nodded, “Detective.” He greeted in the same tone.

“Are we alone? Or do you have people waiting for this to turn ugly?” Fury asked, eyes never leaving the sea. His eye-patch was in place, as always, and Steve had always wondered what had happened that made Fury think eye-patches were the way to go.

Steve followed his lead, eyes scanning the horizon, “Is this going to get ugly?”

“I’m not planning for it but I hear you can be volatile.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” Steve responded, turning to lean his back against the railing and study Fury instead, “What can I do for the police department today?”

Fury wasn’t amused, “Another body was found last night. PC Phil Coulson. One of mine. Found in a carpark over on Madison. Bullet to the head, big ‘A’ carved into his chest.”

“You’re here to arrest me?” Steve asked dangerously, fingers twitching for the gun at his back but he held firm. Nothing in Fury’s body language pointed to aggression or cockiness.

He turned then, hips against the railing to face Steve, “I’m here for your help.”

Well, that was a new one.

Steve frowned, “You want me to hang myself? Make it easy for you?”

“We both know you didn’t do this.” Fury responded, “Your friend with the sassy mouth was right, it’s sloppy and there is something that doesn’t add up. Rhodes thinks it doesn’t much matter either way. A gang is a gang, if we can take one of you down then it’s the first step in bringing Brooklyn back into some sort of order.”

“And the King of Brooklyn would be a nice notch on your bedpost.” Steve nodded.

“But you didn’t do this and as much as I don’t like you or your gang, I want to find the bastard that did this.” Fury replied, “For that I need your help.”

Steve frowned again, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, “Why does this one matter to you so much? Why this case, this Coulson, that would prompt you to go into business with the likes of me?”

“This one is personal, Rogers. Coulson was one of my best.” Fury stated firmly.

Steve froze, his blood ran cold and a tremor went through his hand, “Did you just…?”

“Call you by your last name? You see, it always baffled me how no one knew who The Captain really was. Plenty of people have seen your face. Hell, we run your prints almost monthly and we still can’t get anything. So, I started thinking outside the box.”

“This is a dangerous game, Nick,” Steve warned, letting him know that he knew Fury’s name as well and that was a dangerous thing, “people who know my name don’t tend to live very long.”

Fury nodded, “And I can see why. You have knowledge of guns, professional knowledge, not the type of shit you learn on the internet. You’re a strategist, a professional which led me to thinking you’re either ex-police or ex-army.”

“Very perceptive.” Steve meant it as a compliment because it was clear Fury wasn’t the average small-town cop. He was good.

He was also quick, “I’m just getting warmed up. So, then there is the ease at which you kill people. We have you on nearly 20 kills alone, that’s without adding the collective kills of everyone in your gang. Damn, they say you even killed Phillips to take over his gang because you knew you could run it better.”

Steve sighed, breaking eye contact for a moment, “Well, apparently I wasn’t wrong.”

“So, killing like that, with the skill and ease. You gotta be an army boy. But you would have flagged if you were army unless your file was redacted for some reason. I’m guessing special ops or Delta squad but that’s a guess.” Fury replied, holding his hands up at the last part.

Steve smiled, “Is that right?”

Fury wasn’t done though and Steve was rather enjoying this, it had been a long time since anyone had managed to keep up with him, “But then there is still no trace of you anywhere and that doesn’t add up without being scrubbed from the record hard and no offence, I don’t think that’s your remit. So I got busy, I pulled army recruitment files from around the right time in Brooklyn and it took me days. Everything is online now, no one thinks to check the paperwork. I almost missed it myself, but there it is. Captain Steven G. Rogers of the US Army. Special Ops. Killed in Action four years ago and just like that I’m talking to a motherfucking ghost.”

“You’re having quite the day.” Steve mused, forcing down the feeling of dread in his gut.

“But it is you. Shorter hair, lighter. Clean shaven but it’s a good look for you, Captain. It’s all in the eyes though. Damn, they gave you a purple heart for your service in Afghanistan.” Fury stated in disbelief.

Steve’s eyes narrowed, “I know. It’s sitting at the bottom of the Hudson River. Is this the part where you arrest me, Fury? Because I have to tell you that isn’t going to work out for everyone.”

“This is the part where I offer you a trade.”

“My help for the file you have on me?” Steve guessed.

Fury nodded, “And my silence. Frankly, I don’t care who you are or how you faked your death. You aren’t the biggest threat right now, whoever is butchering my cops is and I have a feeling you want to get them just as much as I do.”

It started to rain them, although neither of them moved, they both stared each other down as splats of rain fell around them, “How do you know I won’t just kill you after our business is done?”

“Because I don’t believe you kill for sport.” He said it with such certainty that Steve wanted to laugh.

He shoved his hands in his pockets for warmth, “I’ve killed phonebooks of people, Fury, don’t test me on this.”

“Right, but the one thing all those kills of yours had in common? They were bad people. I’m not saying you’re the good guy in this story but you are trying to make Brooklyn safer. So, I don’t think you want Hydra running around anymore than I do.” Fury stated and Steve was really starting to hate this guy. He was just being cocky now and that was normally Steve’s role.

“Say I agreed to this trade of yours and between us we managed to bring Hydra down. Then what?” Steve asked, the wind whipping at his hair and his jacket.

Fury frowned, “Then we go back to our own sides of the fence and I hope I never have to cross paths with you again.”

“And my team? How do I know you won’t come after them?”

“You want immunity for them?” Fury replied, “For them but not for yourself?”

Steve nodded, “I know who I am and what I’ve done to get here. I’ll live with it but they shouldn’t have to.”

“Fine, I’ll draw up an immunity deal for your team as an insurance if I don’t keep my end of the deal. You’ll need to fill out their actual names, I assume you know them. You do realise that immunity deals are normally offered as part of protective custody agreements. You might never see them again. They probably won’t even be able to stay together. It’s a mixed bag with these types of arrangements.” Fury stated.

Steve simply ignored him, “Immunity for the team. My file and any copies you made erased from the record. Your smart, Fury. I doubt anyone else would have figured it out but smart doesn’t mean invincible and I need you to understand if you tell anyone who I am then I’ll have to kill you and them and it will just be a bloody messy business so I’d rather avoid that outcome if we can.”

Fury was getting impatient, “I agreed to my silence, you don’t need to threat me for dramatic effect.”

“Just making sure.” Steve replied before offering out his hand. Fury sighed and took it, shaking it once and dropping it just as quickly. He didn’t want to be doing this, Steve knew, but he was smart enough to know it was the only way to stop Hydra and, on that front, at least they were on the same side.

“I’ll be in touch when we have the autopsy reports for the victims and we can go from there.” Fury told him.

Steve shook his head, “Can I see the body? I noticed something in the files I wanted to take a closer look at.”

“Of course, you gained access to my files.” Fury grumbled.

“You might want to vet your staff more thoroughly next time.” Steve winked, “People will do a lot for money.”

Fury shook his head, “Careful Captain, I believe your Steve Rogers is showing.”

“You’re wrong you know. Steve Rogers did die that day. I’m that dark thing inside him that refused to die in the desert, and I’m the only thing left.” Steve replied.

“Well then, let’s hope you can still get the job done.”

/

Tony shouldn’t be doing this.

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this.

He should be getting in the shower and heading to the garage because he had a service coming in at lunchtime and a new part to install on Mr Kingsley’s Jeep and Peter definitely shouldn’t be left on his own for more than a few hours because otherwise he’d OD on subs from the sandwich shop on the corner.

But he couldn’t help it. He’d gotten back late last night with a wad of notes in his jeans pocket and the feel of The Captain’s lips pressed against his own. The Captain. The King of Brooklyn. The most notorious gangster this side of New York and Tony had kissed him after having one conversation with a man he was pretty sure could kill him with a paperclip like he did it all the time.

He certainly didn’t.

Not anymore. Not since he left Stark Industries and Howard in the dust and started over. He was reformed now. No more bad decisions or one-night stands. He promised Rhodey, he would get his head sorted and build a small life for himself and try and live it as best he could.

Buying the garage with the last of his trust fund money before Howard cut him off was a smart decision. A nest egg, as he explained to Rhodey, a way for Tony to make money and keep his hands busy. It was a sound investment and the business was actually doing alright. There was a regular customer base now and he prided himself on fast returns which gained him new customers.

Hiring Peter as his apprentice was another good decision. Rhodey disagreed but screw him, he didn’t always know best. Peter was a great kid who needed a little extra money to help his Aunt May out and needed somewhere to work on his ideas and designs. Tony had given him both and more importantly, he liked having the kid around. He worked hard and was good company. Plus, he was a hit with the ladies who were always pinching his cheeks despite the fact Peter was 17 and hated it.

Kissing a mobster, one he barely knew was a bad decision. Horrible really, yet here he was, late for work and still thinking about the feel of The Captain’s – _Steve’s _– tongue in his mouth and the firmness of him against Tony’s chest.

And to make matters worse Tony had given him his number like it was just a random guy he met at the bar. Steve was damn fine, for sure, and a great kisser and so cocky Tony wondered if he were like that in bed. Nope, bad ideas.

But he could help himself from typing The Captain into google and seeing what came up. He wasn’t expecting his life story or anything but Tony needed to know more. He always had a thirst for knowledge so it really wasn’t his fault.

There were tons of websites trying to figure out which crime reports were The Captain’s victims and a few on Cap Watch that seemed to detail the changes Steve had made since taking over as head of The Avengers from someone called Phillips. There were also a few buzzfeed articles that scared Tony more than he thought to admit.

What was he doing?

He sighed, hitting the button on his computer and stepping away from the screen. It was just a kiss, the guy was dangerous and Tony always was drawn to dangerous. Still, this would be a crazy story to tell people about and he would move on with his life and it would be fine.

He nodded, pleased with his decision and went to shower. Hopefully, Peter hadn’t burned his fingers off in the time Tony had been obsessing like some creep over a spare of the moment kiss from a man he’d probably never see again.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes Steve really hated having to call T’Challa for help. Not that he wasn’t helpful because he was but Steve hated having to rely on T’Challa to get information he couldn’t get himself. He’d been on hold for a few minutes before T’Challa had picked up and had almost blanched when Steve told him what he needed.

“What?” T’Challa asked bluntly, the confusion in his voice was clear.

Steve sighed, “I need a list of all the army vets that have returned from overseas this past year. Only ones who have returned to Brooklyn. Hydra has a new head and all I know is that he’s army.”

He could practically hear T’Challa’s brain working through his request as Steve headed down the stairs from his floor to the one below, “That’s a big ask, Captain. How do you even know he’s a recent returnee and not someone who left the service years ago?”

“Because he managed to get a plan in place to ambush my team in the space of a month. He’s skilled and apparently impatient if these deaths are to do with Hydra. Trust me on this, I know army guys. They don’t like to wait around. I was working for Phillips again only a month after I got back from Afghanistan.” Steve replied, “And you’re holding the returning soldiers benefit for this year to make your campaign look good so I know you have the list.”

“I’ll never understand the way your mind works,” T’Challa replied, “We haven’t finalised the list yet but I can get it. It will take a few days.”

Steve nodded to himself, hearing music coming from Natasha’s room as he made it to the next level of the house. Curiosity got the better of him and he headed in that direction, “Get it done and email it over when you have it.” Steve replied before hanging up.

He needed to figure out who was in charge of Hydra now, it was going to be the only way to find out how big of a threat this new leader was posing to his family and how immediately Steve needed to act. Thanks to Sitwell he already had a lead on the guy being army but that didn’t make him feel better, army men could be ruthless and were always highly intelligent. Especially the ones who went into organised crime.

Natasha’s door was open so she clearly didn’t want privacy and Steve stopped short when he passed her doorframe, leaning against the wood because he didn’t want to intrude. Her room always looked so homely to Steve, bright cream with a purple bedspread. The window was open despite the winter weather and the wind caused the papers she had clipped to the wall to flutter gently. They were newspaper articles she found interesting, a few photos of their team. Steve’s favourite was the one taken last Christmas. Thor had tried to bake a cake and in the photo he held it proudly whilst the rest of them ignored the camera, digging straight in with their forks. There was also a pair of ballet tickets, ones Steve had gotten her for her birthday a few years ago. They had gone together despite Steve knowing nothing about Swan Lake or the ballet. Natasha’s face had been worth it though, eyes lighting up like a kid meeting Santa.

The woman herself hadn’t noticed him yet, she was too focused on the task at hand. Dressed in yoga pants and a tank top with her short hair around her face she almost looked younger than Steve had ever seen her. On Natasha’s feet were a pair of ballet slippers (her first purchase after Steve had given her a cut of their first job together) and she was twirling effortlessly around the small space, completely lost in her own world as the tips of her toes moved to the music.

It was like watching water curve around obstacles in its path, a fluid and unstoppable force with all the grace hiding a destruction she was equally capable of. The song ended and that was when Natasha caught sight of him in the doorway, relaxing onto the soles of her feet with a smile.

“I’ll never understand how you can balance like that.” Steve mused as Natasha moved back onto her bed to start unlacing the slippers.

She spoke as she worked, “They used to make us practice standing on our toes before we even got the slippers. If you couldn’t hold it for an hour then you didn’t get to dance.” Her nimble fingers easily pulled the ribbon loose and slipped the slipper from her foot.

“And I thought the army was bad.” Steve laughed, “I’ll never complain about having to drag a rifle through mud and wire again.”

“Who was on the phone?” She asked as she removed the other slipper, flexing her feet out in front of her.

Steve sighed, “T’Challa. I asked him for a list of returning vets, see if any of them could be Hydra material.”

Natasha hummed, really looking at him then, “You’re worried.”

“I don’t want this to turn into a gang war. There will be casualties, there always is.” Steve replied.

She shook her head, patting the space beside her for him to join her, “We’ve dealt with Hydra before, we’ll do it again.”

Steve moved over to her, having a seat on the plush purple covers as he rubbed his forehead, “This feels different, Nat. I have a gut feeling on this one. These cops being killed? It’s clever, it puts us right in the police and public eye. I don’t know if I can protect everyone from that forever.”

“We never asked for your protection, Steve. You gave us a chance, a family, a home. You picked up the people this world spat back out and you gave us a purpose. A way to make a difference. We all knew what we were signing up for.” She mused, “And we aren’t about to walk away now.”

“I really lucked out with you guys; you know?” Steve smiled at her.

Nat smiled back, “I know. Who else is going to keep you from going crazy and deal with the boring stuff like hiring mechanics and reminding you to eat?”

“Where did you find that mechanic anyway?” Steve asked, trying to be subtly but the mention of Tony brought back thoughts of their kiss and Steve’s desire to know more.

She studied him for a moment, one eyebrow raised in a way that made Steve feel like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “Oh, you liked him huh?” She teased softly.

“I liked his work.” Steve insisted hoping he wasn’t blushing, “Bike’s never looked better.”

“He runs a garage over the other side of town. I googled him, a little hole in the wall that opened just over a year ago and tripled its customer base in as little as three months. The reviews were impressive.” She replied with a shrug, “The website offered call outs in the area and Stark Autos prides itself on a fast service. I figured it was just what you needed to get the bike fixed.”

“You tipped him, right?” Steve asked.

Natasha smiled, that little coy smile like she saw right through him, “Not as well as you did, I imagine. When I showed him to the door after you bolted, he seemed really flustered and dishevelled. You didn’t scare him too much I hope.”

“I was the perfect gentleman.” Steve vowed, biting his lip to keep the smile from his face.

“He didn’t even bat an eyelid when I told him the job was for The Captain. Just asked to see the bike like it was just another day at the office.” She mused.

Steve shook his hair out, combing a hand through it, “Can you tell the others I have a meeting later; I might not be back for dinner.”

“A meeting with who?” She frowned because Steve never had secret meetings but he couldn’t tell her it was with Fury because that wouldn’t go down well and Steve still wasn’t sure he could trust him. He wouldn’t bring the team in unless he was sure.

“Just something I promised I’d do for T’Challa. Don’t worry.”

“Hey Steve, do me a favour and whenever you’re done with T’Challa’s business, take the night off. You’re working too hard.”

Steve frowned, “I can’t take a break right now. Not with Hydra getting stronger by the day.”

“You can and you will.” Natasha told him firmly, “Hydra isn’t attacking right now so you can take an evening. Head to Sam’s, get a drink, lose some tension on those shoulders.”

“I’ll try.” Steve promised with a smile, not wanting to disappoint her when Nat was only trying to look after him while he looked after everyone else.

/

Tony had walked into the shop many times to be greeted to the sight of Peter in various worrying situations. That one time the kid had got his hand stuck whilst trying to install a new engine into Mr Dawson’s car or the time he had spread himself out on the floor and was sorting out jelly beans into different bowls by colour because he hated the taste of the yellows even though Tony was sure they all tasted the same.

They were just Peter quirks and Tony had come to love that about the kid, he was never boring that was for sure and while he was a genius with grades that almost matched Tony’s own at that age, unlike Tony, Peter had never lost that edge of innocent that let people forget he was still just a kid.

So, when Tony walked into the shop with a coffee in his hands to see Peter in the entrance way playing laser tag with a stray cat, he figured he shouldn’t have been surprised. He had the laser pointer from the office and was waving it wildly around the pavement for his new furry friend to chase. Tony was sure the kid was enjoying it more than the cat at this point, the look of pure glee on his face was a sight to behold.

A happy kid.

“Morning, Mr Stark.” Peter greeted him with a grin.

“Morning Kid, who’s your friend?”

Peter reached out a hand to scratch the ginger cat’s ear, “I found him sniffing around the bins this morning when I opened up. He looked hungry so I gave him some of the tuna sandwich in the fridge and he hasn’t left.”

“My tuna sandwich?”

“I’ll get subs for lunch, I promise!” Peter smiled sheepishly, the cat nudging his hand for attention again, “He was hungry, Tony.”

Tony sighed, sipping his coffee, “You know we can’t have a cat here, right? Unless he can hold a spanner?”

“But look at him!” Peter replied, stroking the cat’s fur as he climbed into the Kid’s lap, “He likes us.”

“He’s probably disease ridden.” Tony pointed out with a frown.

Peter wasn’t put off in the slightest, “I think the little old ladies will love him. Women like men that are good with animals.”

Tony wanted to laugh at that reasoning, “He got a name?”

“Meet Ned.” The cat seemed to purr at that.

“Jesus.” Tony sipped at his coffee again, “Your cat, your responsibility. You feed him; you keep him away from the cars. Your Aunt is going to kill me.”

Peter beamed at him, “You’re the best, Tony!”

“Yeah, yeah. Just trying to break the cycle of shame I guess.” Tony replied, “Go put your cat somewhere he isn’t going to get run over. We have Mrs Henderson dropping off her car in 20 minutes.”

He watched Peter scoop the cat up and take him towards the office happily and couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. He was a damn push over with that kid but honestly without Peter he wasn’t sure he would have got this business off the ground.

Tony had left home at the age of 18, heading straight to MIT and blocking all of Howard’s calls. He was a free man and he definitely wasn’t going back home. Those days were over. He told Howard as much when he called Rhodey for a lift to MIT and vowed he wanted nothing to do with a drunk asshole of a father or his business in building weapons that killed people.

He moved home when he ran out of money and courses to study, he was armed with three PhD’s and was fluent in three different languages but he missed Brooklyn. The streets and the feel and the winters. It was his home and he wasn’t about to let Howard take that from him as well. He had taken enough from Tony.

He had brought the garage with the last of his money, sleeping out of the office because he couldn’t afford a place as he worked on building up his business. In three months, he’d managed to create a website, a customer base and gain some very favourable reviews that helped boost his profile. Now he was the best mechanic in town and he had money to buy a small condo in one of the nicer areas of town. It was still a shoe box and Tony had managed to get it as a steal on the price because the builders had abandoned the project without putting dividing walls up for any of the rooms other than the bathroom so the space was literally one massive room and a private bathroom but it was home and it worked fine for Tony.

He hired Peter on the spot when the kid had come to ask for a job, working on Saturday’s for a little bit of money and the chance to learn more about the mechanical side of things. He had waffled too much and Tony was sure his hair hadn’t seen a brush in weeks but he liked him, the youthful babble and pop culture references and Tony had told him he could start the next week.

He and Peter were close now, the Kid worked whenever he could and wasn’t in school and Tony always slipped some extra money into his pay packet so he had some extra money to play with after giving some to Aunt May for housekeeping. He was a hit with customers and honestly, the hardest worker Tony had ever seen so Tony was more than happy to give him the extra cash.

“So, you have a cat now?” The voice had him spinning on his heel to see his best friend standing behind him with an eyebrow raised in Peter’s direction. The cat was cradled to his chest as Peter set about making a bed for him in the office.

Tony sighed, “The kid has a cat. I don’t have a cat.”

Rhodey smiled, “You’re going soft.”

“And you’re slacking off.” Tony jested, “Is this what my tax dollars are paying for? Cops who take leisure days?”

“Fury gave me the day. He has a meeting later, I think. You know me, I’m not good at doing nothing so I thought you could distract me.” Rhodey replied sheepishly.

Tony offered him the half empty coffee cup in his hands, “What do you need distracting from?”

Rhodey took the drink with a nod, “You heard about the cop killings?”

“Yeah, it’s all over the news, they think its gang activity, right? You’re working on that?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, we pulled in one of The Captain’s guys but we couldn’t hold him or get anything out of him. Those gangs are going to be the death of this town, everyone is too scared to arrest them so they just get away with everything.” Rhodey took a sip of the coffee, his brow furrowed in annoyance at the situation.

Tony tried not to think about his encounter with The Captain, that kiss that he had replayed in his mind several times over or the red staining his neck. “Yeah, must be a real nightmare.” He sympathised, feeling guilty at the jot of pleasure in his gut at the feeling of those lips on his own.

“So, distract me.” Rhodey insisted.

“I hate to say this because it makes me sound like you and you know I hate that.” Tony sighed, “But some of us have work to do. You’re welcome to hang out here with me and the Kid though. We can do lunch after I finish the work on this jeep.”

Rhodey smiled at him then, one that made his eyes lighter and his frame more relaxed, “I’m proud of you, you know. You got away from Howard, you built all this, and you’re making smart decisions.”

“I guess all those years of friendship with a cop finally paid off.” Tony smiled, leading Rhodey further into the garage.

He definitely couldn’t tell Rhodey about being hired to fix The Captain’s bike or the impromptu make out session with the King of Brooklyn because he was pretty sure that didn’t count as a smart choice. But that was okay because he’s probably never heard from him again anyway, it was a blip of impulsiveness in a sea of smart decisions. A little blip, Tony was allowed. It’s not like he joined the gang or even fucked a mobster. It was just one little kiss; he wouldn’t even think of it again.

He wouldn’t.

/

When Steve met Fury, it was after lunchtime and Fury had ushered him around the back of the stationhouse and in through a side door. He was all business in his black suit, badge hanging around his neck as he scanned his ID card for access and led Steve into the lower levels of the police station.

The morgue was on the lowest level and that’s where they were headed so Steve was more than a little confused when Fury stopped him with a hand and pulled a cap and sunglasses out of his coat to pass them to Steve.

“You need to put these on.” Fury told him and he passed him the cap and shades.

Steve frowned, mocking shock, “Are you ashamed to me seen with me, Detective?”

“This is my place of work, alright. I can’t just be walking the halls with a mob boss like we’re best friends.” Fury replied with a scowl.

He shook out the cap and shoved it onto his head, placing the glasses on his nose so they hid his eyes, “You know only morons wear sunglasses inside.”

Fury laughed, “You’d be surprised how many cops do it. They think it’s cool.”

“Morons.” Steve muttered but kept in step with Fury as he led him into the morgue.

The morgue was cold and oppressing in Steve’s opinion. All tiled stone floors and off green walls with peeling paint. Clearly no one thought to decorate considering most of the people who came down here were already dead. The mortician was clearly expecting them, standing out with a file over a body in a body bag as he checked his notes.

“Adam, how you been?” Fury greeted him, “How’s the family?”

“The same as ever. Baby won’t sleep through the night. We’re running on coffee and routine at this point.” Adam replied, “Sorry to hear about Coulson.”

“Thanks for doing the autopsy.”

“Of course.” Adam replied, looking over at Steve for a moment, “I thought you were working with Rhodes on this one?”

Fury nodded, “I am. Rhodes is off today. This is Dawkins from internal affairs. He just needs to get the facts so he can sign off the report and make sure there was nothing out of the ordinary about this one.”

Steve nodded, “Right, paperwork is a nightmare.”

Fury scowled at him but Adam didn’t seem to be suspicious. He dropped his file on the desk and unzipped the body bag, pulling it out the way to reveal the body of Phil Coulson. He had a kind face, light brown hair that was thinning out due to age and stress and almost looked peaceful if it wasn’t for the angry red ‘A’ in the centre of his chest.

Steve frowned at it, crudely done with a knife by someone who didn’t know how to use one. He could see the tears in the skin where the knife at gotten stuck whilst carving.

“Same as before. Wound was inflicted before death, he struggled for sure. The cause was the bullet to the head, expertly done. You still thinking gang crime for this one?” Adam asked.

Fury nodded, sparing a glance at Steve, “That’s what we think.”

“It makes sense. Both bodies were moved after death. They both had scrap marks on their backs like they were dragged. Probably to stage a crime scene.” Adam continued.

Steve had been right; they had been killed somewhere else and moved into a more public location to be found. This had been a set-up, “I read in the report of the first victim there was something under his nails, was it blood from the attacker?”

“Coulson had it as well.” Adam nodded, “Not blood but dirt. Probably got there whilst the mark was being carved into their chests. They were both shown to have defensive wounds.”

Fury frowned, “You sent a sample to the lab?”

“Of course. High levels of potassium nitrate, charcoal and sulfur. Nothing out of the ordinary. They store charcoal at the docks anyway and the others are found in composted soil to help plant vegetation.” Adam replied, eyes on Coulson’s body.

Steve had all the confirmation he needed, “Thank you for your help, Adam. I think I have enough for my report.” He said, glancing at Fury before retreating from the room with a turn of his heel.

He was already striding down the corridor when Fury caught up with him, “Hey! You want to tell me what that was about back there?”

“It’s Hydra, I should have trusted my gut from the beginning.” Steve replied harshly, not slowing down his pace.

Fury frowned but kept up with him, “You got that from some dirt?”

“Did you know in the war Brooklyn was one of the towns tasked with the job of producing gunpowder?” Steve asked, “They had to turn out so much of it for years after the smell of it clung to the walls of the shipment yards where they made it.”

“I’m not following.”

Steve sighed, “Sulfur, charcoal and potassium nitrate. The three main ingredients found in gunpowder.”

“You’re trying to tell me my cops had gunpowder under their nails?” Fury asked, “How does that explain Hydra’s behind it?”

“Hydra operates out of the shipment yards that used to manufacture gunpowder. The only place in Brooklyn you’d find traces of that particular mixture trodden into the dirt. Thousands of men treading it into the soil for years on end.” Steve explained.

Fury was catching up with him now, “It places both our cops in Hydra’s base of operations when the mark was carved.”

“Hydra’s new leader is apparently working to destroy my team.” Steve replied as he pushed open the door to the outside chill with Fury hot on his heels, “If I can find out who he is then I’ll be able to stop him.”

Fury frowned, “We have proof it’s Hydra, we can send in a team of men.”

“And watch them get themselves killed.” Steve finished, “This guy is ex-army. He’s smart and he clearly has no issues with killing cops. We need to know who he is before we go after him. We need to know who we’re up against.”

“I’ll start pulling army files although without a face it’s going to be difficult.” Fury replied.

Steve nodded, “I’m working my own resources as well, see if I can spot any names I recognise. He’d have to be trained similarly to me to be able to prove to Hydra he can lead them. We’re looking at special ops guys.”

“I’ll put Rhodey on it first thing tomorrow and call you if I find anything.” Fury agreed, “We need to find this guy before he kills again.”

“Or before he comes after my family.” Steve spat out.

He started walking again, his legs moving just for something to do, “Where are you going?”

“It’s my night off. I need a drink.” Steve shouted back before disappearing onto the street, hat and sunglasses still in place.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam already had a drink in front of him as Steve slid into his usual corner seat at the bar. Falcon’s was Sam’s day job after coming back from serving in Afghanistan and explaining to Steve he wanted something normal. Steve understood that much and helped Sam work out the details on buying and opening up his own bar. It was right in the middle of his patch of Brooklyn, all dark wooden panels and warm interior. Sam had designed it himself, shelves of alcohol lining the back wall and a wraparound bar in the centre.

He had a flat above it as well as a bedroom at Steve’s because he knew sometimes Sam liked to be alone and other times he didn’t. He had a hard time dealing with being back and Steve knew he was still ashamed to get nightmares about his time in the army. Steve always offered him an ear but Sam refused, Steve carried his own troubles and they weighed him down enough.

But he always found himself stopping by the bar at least once a week to check in. Sam came to the house frequently to see everyone but Steve preferred to see him like this, in his own environment. Sam was completely at ease here, mixing cocktails and flipping bottles with an easy smile and bartender banter. Just seeing him look lighter made Steve feel lighter.

Sam had placed his drink down with a smile but business was busy tonight so he couldn’t stop and chat like they normally would. Steve waved him away with a hand, they could catch up when it died down later. For now, he was content to sip his bourbon and try to push the fear of Hydra coming after his family from his mind.

He should have known, that gut feeling he told Natasha about was there and never normally wrong. He was worried about a gang war but if Hydra was coming after his team then Steve knew he’d do whatever it took to stop them. Whoever the new leader was, he was smart. Smart enough to know he needed to make Steve weaker before he could attack him directly. The idea was probably to frame The Avengers for the killings, the police would start to round up the other members which would leave Steve missing half his family and vulnerable to attack.

Steve had to find him before it got to that stage. Getting Clint out of jail was one thing but if the police found evidence to place one of them at the scene then there wasn’t going to be a lot he could do. He couldn’t buy off a judge and an entire police force. Not even with T’Challa’s help.

“Of all the bars in all the towns.” The voice startled him, glass in hand as a body slipped into the seat next to him.

“You had to walk into mine?” Steve finished, turning in his seat to take in those brown eyes that had plagued his mind since their kiss in his garage.

Tony scoffed, “Please, everyone knows Falcon’s is one of the best in town. Sam knows everyone.”

“And he’s on my payroll.” Steve smirked taking a sip of his drink, “This is my part of town after all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, shall I get written permission from you before I enter a bar in your patch for a drink?” Tony snarked with playful eyes and God, did he have any idea what that did to Steve? No one dared talk to him like that anymore.

He placed his glass down on the bar, “That won’t be necessary. Just let me buy you a drink and we’ll call it square?”

Tony chuckled, “Does that line normally work?”

“First time I’ve tried it.” Steve admitted, “Is it working?”

“Whisky.” Was the reply, “Neat.”

Steve nodded, “Sam, two whiskies on my tab when you’re ready please.” He shouted at his friend who was mixing another order. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, eyes on Tony for a moment.

“Sure thing, Cap!” He called out before returning to his work.

“How do you know Sam?” Tony asked him with a frown.

Steve sighed, “Old army buddies. You?”

“I don’t really. Fixed his car once when he got a flat tire, told me about this place and said I should check it out. Been coming here ever since.” Tony shrugged, “I don’t drink much anymore, just been a long day.”

“You have no idea.” Steve laughed, “Tell me about it?”

“My day?” Tony frowned, “Why?”

Steve shrugged, draining his glass, “Isn’t that what people do? Talk about their days?”

“Yeah, normal people.”

“I’m not normal?”

Tony laughed, “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure you out.”

Sam slid their drinks at them, eyes boring into Steve’s skull but Steve said nothing other than a quick thanks which prompted Sam to get back to his work, “I’m going to have to explain this one later.” He told Tony with a smile, “He’s like a bored housewife when it comes to gossip.”

“Does he know you kill people for a living?” Tony asked, taking a sip of the whisky Sam had given him.

Steve frowned, “He does. Does it bother you?”

“That you kill people?” Tony replied, “Shouldn’t it?”

“Probably.” Steve admitted, taking another large gulp of his drink. He shouldn’t care about what Tony thought about him. He was who he was and it served him well so far. It didn’t matter what a mechanic thought. Even if he did have those eyes that drove Steve crazy and a quick wit that left him reeling.

Tony turned in his chair a little more, angling his legs out towards Steve, “Did you really kill your old boss to take over his gang?” He asked, not in an accusing way but in one of curiosity.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read about me.” Steve replied, “You’ll be disappointed.”

“You said you were in the army, right? So, you killed people long before you became a mob boss. If I judged you on killing now then I’d have to judge the way the army trains men to kill people as well and I’m not nearly drunk enough for that conversation.” Tony replied with a smile, eyes twinkling under the dim light of the bar.

Steve released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “And we’re back to your long day.” He teased with a smile.

Tony laughed, it was soft and delicate, like he didn’t do it often, “My apprentice showed up with a cat. My best friend is a workaholic who doesn’t know when to quit and I’m pretty much going to be doing double shifts from now til Christmas to keep my customers happy.” He shrugged, “Another day at the office.”

“Can’t you hire someone to help?” Steve asked.

“I can barely afford Peter.” Tony replied, “The business is good, but we’re still paying off loans to get it up and running. Next year we’ll be in the green on those and I’ll have the wiggle room to take on another full timer but right now it wouldn’t be a wise decision.”

Steve nodded, “You built it up by yourself, right?”

“Yeah, I needed something that was mine. Something Howard couldn’t touch and that I was proud of. It’s hard being the disappointing son of a billionaire.” Tony replied, “That’s without the added kidnappings and ransom demands.”

“Does that happen often?” Steve frowned because he definitely didn’t like the idea of Tony in danger. It did something weird to his insides as his stomach churned. He took another sip of whisky to try and wash the feeling away.

Tony shook his head, “Not anymore. I’ve been disowned so people would be stupid to try it now. I’m pretty sure Howard would rather just let me get tortured until they get bored. It happened a few times when I was sixteen, seventeen. I was being fitted as the Stark Industries heir back then so I got a lot of unwanted attention.”

“And your dad did nothing?” Steve asked, trying to keep the venom out of his voice.

“He was a pretty shit father all round, I’m afraid. He paid up eventually, because the press would have made him look like a monster if he didn’t. Mostly I was fine, if they hurt me, they didn’t get their money so it was a few days spent in a basement.” Tony said, trying to play the whole thing off but Steve could see the distant look in his eyes and the awkward set of his shoulders.

He sighed, “I’m sorry that happened to you, Tony.”

“I got pretty good at being a hostage in the end.” Tony replied, “Learnt a few survival skills. I am bringing down this whole mood though so let’s change the subject.”

Steve understood his silent plea to stop talking about it and nodded, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Did you know there’s a whole buzzfeed article dedicated to whether you wear boxers or briefs?” Tony blurted out and then seemed to realise what he had said because Steve could see him blush.

He laughed, “You googled me?”

Tony ducked his head, “I researched you. I couldn’t help it okay, you kissed me. I needed to make sure you weren’t some crazy psycho.”

“And did buzzfeed convince you?” Steve asked.

“Jury’s still out.” Tony admitted.

Steve caught his eyes then, brown and soft, crinkled at the edges. The tension was leaving his shoulders and Steve couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this at ease. He shouldn’t have. He had a million and one problems to fix. Hydra. The police killings. The immunity deals. Fury knew his identity. Nat and Bucky were slowly torturing themselves instead of talking.

But being here with Tony, he could almost forget everyone else in this bar looked at him as a monster. The Captain. The person who stalked the streets at night and was the reason they locked their doors.

And Tony was giving him a soft smile despite knowing all of that. He was biting his bottom lip, like he was unsure of what to say next and all Steve wanted to do in that moment was lean over and kiss him.

Tony had shuffled closer, on the edge of his seat while they were talking and Steve knew he could close that gap in a second if he wanted to.

“I’m dangerous, you know.” Steve warned him, “If you were smart, you’d walk out that door and wouldn’t look back.”

Tony nodded, “I am very smart. I’m also impulsive, reckless on occasion and according to my best friend I have the capacity to make terrible decisions for a smart person.”

Steve smiled, shifting in his seat, “I’m not joking, Tony. Not everything you read about me is true but a lot of it is.”

“Maybe I like danger?” Tony responded, “Don’t worry, Cap. I can handle myself.” He was biting his bottom lip again, his eyes darker than before.

Steve shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help it, he wanted Tony. He leaned towards him, reaching out with his hand on Tony’s jaw and moving his thumb gently to pull Tony’s lower lip free of his teeth.

Tony gasped, perfectly still for a moment as Steve’s eyes flicked to his, those brown eyes daring and excited and that was all it took for Steve to surge forward.

His mouth was on Tony’s again, licking the whisky off his lips as he opened his mouth to Steve’s touch. He was warm and pliant, his tongue running along Steve’s bottom lip for access. Tony had a hand on his knee for balance, the corner of the bar providing them with a little privacy as Steve explored the roof of Tony’s mouth with his tongue and Tony turned the tables, sucking on Steve’s tongue with such boldness that Steve felt his pants grow tighter at the move.

He pulled back when Tony released him, letting his hand drop from Tony’s jaw with a smirk at his red mouth from Steve’s handiwork, “You might be the best error in judgement I’ve ever had.” Tony told him roughly.

Steve smiled, “Who says we’re finished yet?”

Tony visible sat straighter at the invitation, “My place is a few blocks away?”

“This that an offer?” Steve teased him.

“If you want it to be?” Tony smirked, standing up and moving around his seat to start heading outside.

This man would be keeping Steve on his toes tonight, he knew.

Steve stood as well, “Lead the way.” He said gently, walking in step with Tony as they made their way out of the bar and into the cold night air.

/

Tony fumbled with his key in the door, missing the lock a few times in his haste. The motion had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system and everything to do with Steve’s looming presence at his back. The man was radiating heat and desire in waves and Tony was simply swept up in the storm. He turned the lock again, scratching the metal with the key before finally working it into the slot. Steve chuckled behind him, low and dark as his own hand snaked around Tony’s shoulder to help him turn the lock and open his front door.

He flipped on the light and his hand grabbed the edge of Steve’s leather jacket, pulling him into Tony’s home. Steve pushed the door shut behind him with the heel of his foot, not wanting to tear his eyes away from Tony’s for a moment. The tension between them was thick and Steve watched Tony swallow, throat bobbing. It was like they were locked in a stalemate, having been doused with gasoline and now they were just waiting for which one of them would strike a match first.

“We don’t have to do this.” Steve told him gently, “You can kick me out.”

Tony didn’t even blink as he shrugged his own jacket off and let it fall to the floor. Steve just watched him. The match had been struck.

“Then I’d have to do this all by myself.” Tony sighed, “That doesn’t sound very fair, does it Captain?” He drawled out the rank, rolling the word around on his tongue and it sent a shiver of pleasure down Steve’s spine.

He took a large step towards Tony, closing the distance until Tony could feel his heat despite the cold of the night.

“We can’t have that.” Steve agreed in what sounded like a purr.

Tony seemed pleased enough with that statement to reach up for Steve’s collar, dragging his face down to meet Tony’s in a searing kiss. Steve was already hard, his hands gripping at Tony’s waist as his tongue invaded his mouth. He licked at Tony’s lips, flicking his tongue along the edge of Tony’s own until he heard a moan from the smaller man.

The kiss was nothing short of dirty, sucking on Tony’s tongue as he bit at Steve’s lower lip. It was a battle for dominance, a spark that had turned into a wildfire. Steve pulled him closer, stealing the oxygen from Tony’s lungs and humming when he felt Tony’s hands on the back of his neck, fingers scratching at the ends of his hair.

Steve spun them, moving Tony back until his back hit the wood of his door and Steve had pinned him up against it and this was what Steve wanted. The lines of Tony’s body pressing against his own until he was heady with the feel of him under Steve’s hands.

Where did Tony Stark even come from?

Tony tore his mouth away from Steve’s when breathing became a requirement and Steve moved down to pay attention to Tony’s neck. He preened at the feel of Steve sucking his pulse point, head moving back to rest against the door and allowing Steve more access. It turned out Tony was very sensitive around that area and Steve couldn’t help the smile on his face when he kissed at the spot where Tony’s neck met his shoulder and was rewarding with a rough thrust of Tony’s hips against him.

Tony was hard for him, solid against the line of his jeans and gripping the back of Steve’s shirt like a lifeline as Steve continued his attentions on his neck. He licked a strip from base to jaw and Tony shivered at the touch, tugging at the hem of Steve’s shirt enough to get his hands underneath.

Nothing would have prepared Steve for the feeling of Tony Stark’s hands on his skin, rough fingertips moving over the muscles of his back in exploration as Tony brought his head up to find Steve’s mouth again. This kiss was urgent and hard, a firm press of lips as Tony’s sneaky hands moved to Steve’s chest, working over his abs at a teasing pace before dragging them up over his pecs. As soon as those rough fingers traced over his nipples Steve knew it was too late to talk himself out of this.

He rolled his hips into Tony’s, rewarding him with a deeper kiss when Tony met his hips halfway. That firm press of their dicks against each other sent sparks through Steve and he couldn’t help but let his desire to see Tony Stark like this take over.

Steve pulled back slightly, taking in the lust in Tony’s eyes. They were dark and blown with desire and if that wasn’t the hottest thing Steve had ever seen. Tony was still lazily rolling his hips against Steve’s, searching for some kind of friction to ease the bulge in his pants as his hands worked their way out of Steve’s shirt to go straight for the buttons. Steve smirked as Tony hastily popped the buttons, revealing Steve’s chest to him. Was it his imagination or did Tony just lick his lips?

Before he could continue that thought any further Tony had ducked down and placed a kiss on Steve’s chest, mapping out a path with his mouth before taking one of Steve’s nipples between his teeth. Steve’s hips stuttered and he pushed Tony even further into the door behind him, one hand threading through the hair at the base of Tony’s neck and the other gripping at his hip to help establish a rhythm as they ground against one another.

Tony’s mouth was magic, that was Steve’s first thought, as he felt Tony’s tongue swirl around his nipple before moving up to suck at his neck. Steve felt more blood rush down to his dick as Tony sucked at his skin, his hands moving with ease to Steve’s back, digging his fingers into Steve’s shoulder blades.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed as Tony moved his hips against him in reckless abandonment and Steve tried to keep up with him.

When was the last time he was this turned on by just making out with someone?

Tony was breathing deeply when he broke away from Steve’s neck, blunt nails biting into his skin as Tony panted and hooked a foot around the back of Steve’s calf to draw him closer. Steve went willingly, stumbling into Tony as he pressed his arousal firmly against his own. Gone was their teasing rhythm from before, it was now full on rutting against each other to climb further into their pleasure.

“You could come like this, couldn’t you?” Steve bit out, pressing firmly back into Tony to hear that little whimper that escaped his throat. “That’s how much you want me.”

Steve almost couldn’t believe it.

Tony thrust his hips up, “I want you inside of me.” He was so confident and breathless and Steve was amazed he didn’t come in his damn pants then and here.

Christ, Tony Stark really was something else.

Steve kissed him again, purely because he couldn’t help himself. He needed to taste Tony on his tongue and feel him on his lips and Tony opened up to him as soon as he brought their mouths together.

Tony was a force to be reckoned with, Steve was learning that fast as Tony dragged his nails down Steve’s back with an insistence that Steve could only read as a demand from the mechanic.

“Come on, Captain.” He growled, “Fuck me already.”

The sound of his rank coming from Tony’s mouth, like a sinner blaspheming in a church and all Steve wanted to do was ask him to say it again. He’d replay the sound of Tony asking him to fuck him already until the day he died.

“Bedroom?” Steve demanded, hands moving to unbutton Tony’s jeans. He made sure to brush his fingers over Tony’s cock as he did so, drawing another moan from him.

Tony pushed him away for a moment, pulling his t-shirt over his head in one quick movement before letting it drop to the floor. Steve’s mouth went dry at the expense of smooth olive skin that was revealed to him, all soft lines and teasing edges.

Then there was that sinful look Tony threw him over his shoulder, bedroom eyes if Steve had ever seen them. He followed Tony blindly, something he’d never normally do, as Tony led him through the open plan space of his condo to the back corner where Steve saw a bed.

Steve’s eyes flashed to the small smattering of scars across Tony’s left shoulder blade, a series of roundish dots, about five in total that almost looked like freckles. He filed the information away because now definitely wasn’t the time to ask and it wasn’t his business. Everyone had scars after all, Steve himself was covered in them. A jagged edge of a knife wound on his right thigh. A graze of raised skin near his ribs from an old bullet wound. He pushed those thoughts aside, Tony stopping him when he had reached the foot of the bed.

Tony had the biggest bed Steve had ever since, all white sheets and mountains of pillows on a white canvas, separated from the rest of his flat by two large bookcases that acted as room partitions. Steve wanted to stop and analyse the space, Tony’s space, to see the little quirky items that sat on those bookshelves and see what that was that was stuck to the wall opposite his bed with tape but then Tony was back to tugging at his shirt and jacket and pushing them off his shoulders and Steve’s focus was back on Tony.

Normally it wasn’t this consuming for him. The sex. He enjoyed it, of course, and he always made sure his partner finished but Steve always kept one eye on the nearest exit as a planned escape route and had a mental note of where he left his clothes if he needed to leave in a hurry. He was more than a little confused to find he hadn’t worried about either of those things since Tony had let him inside and even now, all of his attention went to Tony.

Steve was sure even if the police or Hydra busted in now to get him, he’d make them wait until he’d finished leaving Tony completely spent and satisfied before they got down to business.

Tony was tugging at his belt now, undoing it with nimble fingers and popping the button on Steve’s trousers but that wouldn’t do because all that skin was calling to him and Steve always got what he wanted. He bent his head, tongue flicking out against one of Tony’s nipples before he mouthed kisses down along his ribs. Tony sighed happily, shutting his eyes at the feeling of Steve’s mouth on him.

That was when Steve did another thing he normally wouldn’t have done. He knelt down, a move he normally would have avoided because it opened him up to weakness, it was almost like a move intended to worship and Steve Rogers didn’t worship anyone.

Except maybe Tony Stark.

On his knees, his mouth moved lower, tongue tasting its way down Tony’s abs as they jumped under his touch. Steve’s hands came up to dig his fingers into the material of Tony’s jeans, hooking into the waistband to pull them and his boxers down together. He went slowly, reveal inch by inch of new skin as his mouth followed the trail his hand had created. Tony’s hands were in his hair, softly gripping as he gasped, feeling Steve’s hot breath on his dick. He let the jeans pool at Tony’s ankles, his mouth moving back up to nip at his defined hipbones as Tony kicked off his shoes, jeans and boxers in one mangled heap.

It was Tony that reached for him, pulling him to his feet and back to his full height and mashed their lips together again.

Steve didn’t think he’d ever get enough of kissing Tony Stark, his tongue just as skilled as his hands as it dove into Steve’s mouth impatiently, his hands shoving Steve’s own trousers down his legs. Steve fumbled with his boots, he couldn’t kick them off without unknotting the laces and he growled in frustration, tearing his mouth away from Tony’s as he reached down to address the problem.

When he was free of them and had kicked his own jeans and underwear off, he stood up to see Tony watching him. His cock was standing proud against his stomach, his thighs big and powerful but that wasn’t where Tony’s focus was.

“A boxers man.” He hummed, “Buzzfeed lied to me.”

Steve couldn’t help the chuckle that he let out, hands reaching for Tony’s smooth skin again as he moved him back towards the bed, “Do they have an article for my skills in the bedroom?”

“No, but I intend to find out.” Tony teased, grabbing Steve’s hips before flopping backwards onto his bed.

The move threw Steve and he too tumbled down with Tony, a mass of limbs on white sheets. Steve wanted to smile at the move because very few people could knock him on his ass and here Tony hadn’t even been trying but then Tony was kissing him again and they were shuffling further up the bed and Steve had forgotten how to breathe much less form a sentence.

Tony had him trapped in the V of his hips; legs wrapped around Steve’s waist as their cocks rubbed together lazily. Tony’s hands were in his hair again, a favourite spot it seemed, and Steve could only growl in response.

“Do you have lube?” He asked when he pulled away because he didn’t want to hurt Tony by not using any and he definitely wanted to know how it felt to be inside him.

Tony threw a hand towards his bedside table, “Top drawer, with the condoms.” He answered with a roll of his hips.

Steve nodded, reaching over to pull out the draw and come back with a bottle of half used lube and a foil packet, “Are you sure?” Something about Tony made him want to take every care about this, he wanted to know that Tony wanted him. It was a type of need Steve wasn’t used to feeling, a kind of caring intimacy that scared him.

He pushed it back as Tony nodded, “If you don’t get inside me soon, I might explode.” He replied and that was all the encouragement Steve needed.

He moved onto his knees, letting Tony part his legs wide as Steve squeezed some of the lube onto his fingers. He spread it around generously, warming up the gel before tossing the tube to one side and moving his fingers to Tony’s hole. He circled the rim slowly before inserting a finger, feeling Tony tense around the intrusion for a moment. Steve waited, wanting Tony to be comfortable before he felt him relax and allowed his finger to move even deep inside of him.

Tony’s eyes were closed in bliss, hands fisted into the bedsheets as Steve withdrew his finger to the tip and pushed back in again. He did it a few more times, feeling the pull and stretch from Tony until he was happy that he could add another finger. Tony gasped and bucked his hips against Steve’s hand at the addition of a second digit. His hands gripping the sheets as Steve worked him open, scissoring his fingers to help stretch Tony further. He curled them inside of Tony’s heat when they were buried inside of him, searching for that spot that would make Tony see stars.

The first touch of his prostate had him calling out and bucking off the bed against Steve’s hand in pleasure. Steve watched in awe as Tony’s back bowed and his toes curl and he had to do it again just to watch the way his face changed and his hole gripped Steve’s fingers at the sensation.

“I’m ready.” Tony gasped, “Please.”

Steve thought about protesting, playing it safe and adding another finger to try and ease the stretch from having his cock in there but Tony was looking at him with those big brown eyes, all lust and wanting and Steve didn’t have the heart to deny him anything.

He nodded, “Okay.” Before withdrawing his fingers and reaching for the condom. He rolled it onto his length slowly, gripping the base to try and calm himself down as he applied another helping of lube to his cock and then he lined himself up with Tony’s entrance.

His cock pushing against his hole but Steve waited, eyes meeting Tony’s for a moment. Tony reached for him. One hand coming up to rest on Steve’s shoulder as he planted his feet flat on the mattress to give Steve an easier angle.

Steve pushed in slowly, inch by inch as Tony stretched around him until he was buried to the hilt inside him. Steve waited there for a moment, Tony’s eyes were closed again and he was taking Steve just the right way and Steve felt him grip the back of his neck.

He leaned down to kiss Tony, a soft one compared to their others but Tony relaxed and then wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist and dug his heels into Steve’s ass to get him to move.

Steve started off slowly, sliding out before pushing back in again, watching Tony writhe underneath him and try to pull him closer.

He didn’t need much persuading, kissing Tony soundly as he used his hands to support his weight and started thrusting into the Mechanic to build up a rhythm. Tony was moaning, hips moving to meet Steve’s with rigor as his heels dug harder into Steve’s ass.

Steve got the message and sped up, he could practically feel Tony humming with pleasure and he knew his own was building fast. That pull in his stomach was there and the noises Tony was making wasn’t doing anything to help him draw this out. He rocked his hips against Tony’s, pushing himself deeper inside of him to hit against his prostate.

“Fuck,” Tony called out as Steve drew out and slammed back in, “You feel so good.”

His hips stuttered at the sudden pool of pleasure in his cock at the words, “Tony.” He moaned; he couldn’t help himself.

“Just like that, baby.” He preened and Steve rewarded him with an increase in pace and harder thrusts.

He was slamming into Tony now, working him hard and fast as his pleasure mounted. Steve grabbed at Tony’s leg, moving it from his waist to hook it over his upper arm instead, the angle opened Tony up wide and allowed him to reach his prostate on every thrust.

Tony was whimpering, his cock leaking precome between them as Steve thrust in and out of him with pants and moans of his own. He could see Tony’s skin slick with sweat and feel it on his own back as Tony moved a hand to his shoulder and dug his nails into Steve’s skin.

Steve swore again, hips losing their rhythm as his pleasure raced towards the edge, teasing him with each movement of his hips. Tony was moving with him, hips bucking off the bed as he used Steve’s body for leverage and gripped the sheet until his knuckles were white in his other hand. This angle was clearly working for both of them.

But Steve needed to see Tony come first, he needed to know what Tony Stark looked like when he came undone. He shifted his weight to one hand, still bracing Tony’s leg as his other reached down between them for his cock.

Tony cried out when he felt Steve’s fist wrap around him, pumping his cock into the circle of his hand in time with his thrusts into Tony’s heat.

“Fuck, Steve!” Tony called out, “I’m going to come.”

Steve kept his pace, hand and hips working in tandem to bring Tony into oblivion. Just a little more, “Come for me, sweetheart.” The name tumbled from his lips before Steve could stop it and Tony was tumbling into his pleasure soon after.

Steve felt Tony’s come on his hand and felt his whole body clench around his cock as his orgasm hit him like an inferno and Steve used his hand to guide him through it, letting Tony ride out the aftershocks of his pleasure for as long as he could.

A few more thrusts and Steve was coming as well, releasing into the condom as he was buried to the hilt in Tony as his orgasm racked his body with a flood of pleasure and Tony’s name from his lips. He buried his face into Tony’s neck, feeling his arms wrap more securely around his frame as Steve shuddered in pure ecstasy.

Steve was shaking as he came down from his high, the effort of keeping himself upright becoming painful as he felt Tony move his hand from his cock because he was probably oversensitive by now. He tucked his leg back underneath Steve’s arm and pulled Steve down towards him, letting him take the weight off his arm.

He slid out of Tony gently, moving down to roll off the condom and tie it off. He found the bin next to the bedside table and threw it in there before settling down next to Tony on the white sheets, breathing heavily and blissful spent.

Tony was sweaty and smiling at him and Steve couldn’t resist leaning over to give him another kiss. Tony swallowed it happily.

“Are you a love them and leave them type?” Tony asked, “Or can you stay for a bit?”

Tony was already moving into him, nuzzling his face against Steve’s chest as Steve wrapped an arm around him, “I’ll stay.” He replied, unsure of what came over him because he definitely didn’t stay. At all. It was a rule. Fuck and leave. But Tony was curling into his chest and had come with his name on his lips. Steve’s actual name not just The Captain and Steve wanted to stay. For a bit. He felt Tony’s leg hitch up over his hips as he flung an arm over Steve’s chest and Steve knew he wanted to stay forever. To just live in this moment where he wasn’t a mobster and this wasn’t a one-night stand.

A dream where this was the start of something that could never actually work in their real world.

Steve closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off with the feeling of Tony curled against him, spent from their orgasms and the thought that called Tony ‘sweetheart’ had sent a thrill through him in an uncomfortably happy way. He had just enough energy to pull the sheet around them both so Tony wouldn’t get cold before he passed out from exhaustion.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve woke up with the sun. Old army habits die hard. It took him a moment to remember where he was, expecting to be in his own bed but the curtains over the window to his left didn’t belong to him. There was a scorch mark towards the bottom like they had once been accidently set on fire. It was the warm press of the body next to him that brought Steve back to the events of last night.

He had stayed. He had slept.

He wanted to be uncomfortable with that knowledge, he wanted to feel guilty for breaking one of his own rules in order to spend the night with Tony.

The man in question was still asleep, curled up to Steve’s side with his head resting on Steve’s chest and a leg thrown carelessly between Steve’s under the sheets. They were a tangle of limbs in a room that smelt purely of sex.

Tony looked good like this, tanned skin against white sheets. That crazy hair of his was even crazier in the morning light that filtered through the bedroom and Steve had to fight the urge to run a hand through it and push it away from his forehead. That wasn’t something a mob boss should think about.

He should have left; he should leave now.

Tony might wake up and come to his senses about just how bad an idea last night was and then they’d have to do that awkward thing where Steve pretended he had somewhere to be and Tony pretend that he didn’t know it was a lie.

Maybe he’d gotten it out of his system now. Last night had been intense and fun and Steve would happily do it again if Tony wanted that but maybe he could walk away now. They both had lives to lead and fortunately for Tony, those lives didn’t cross over.

The sound of his phone buzzing from the pocket of his jacket somewhere on the floor was what brought Steve back to reality. He’d been out all night, something that he never did. His family were probably going out of their minds with worry that something had happened to him.

The noise was enough to have Tony stirring slightly, he rolled over onto his other side and buried his head into the pillow to block out the noise. Clearly, he wasn’t a morning person. He was asleep again in seconds and Steve was now free of his hold to move.

He felt the burn of his thighs from their activities and he almost wanted to wince because if he was feeling it then Tony would definitely be sore today. Steve managed to move off the bed without too much jostling, not disturbing Tony as he worked to retrieve his jeans and boxers from where they were discarded on the floor last night.

Tony’s place was rustic, and Steve took the time to really take it in as he got back into last night’s clothes. The condo was on the top floor of Tony’s apartment building and was very open plan. Steve wondered if the contractors had run out of money before finishing it because the only walls in the whole place where the ones that blocked off the bathroom from the rest of the house. Tony’s bedroom was at one end, blocked off by two massive bookcases that acted as room partitions to the rest of the condo. The floors were dark wood, and Tony had made the space his own by sticking pictures and newspaper articles to the wall by the window. The bookcases were stacked full as well, Steve spotted books on mechanics and engineering as well as some that were clearly fiction books. He wanted to scan the titles for any he knew but he didn’t want Tony to feel like he was snooping in his space.

Another buzz from his phone was enough to make his decision. He threw his shirt over his head hastily and went to pick up his leather jacket, hand digging into the pocket to retrieve the phone.

2 messages mocked him from the home screen. The first was from Sam:

**Dude don’t think I didn’t see you leave with that mechanic last night. We need to talk about that! I’ll supply the beer.**

Steve sighed; Sam really was like an old housewife that lived on gossip. He ignored the message, moving onto the next one from Bucky:

**We have a rule, Punk. Call me so I know you’re not dead. **

Bucky was clearly not happy and he’s protectiveness often got masked by anger, so Steve knew he was in for a lecture when he got home. He quickly tapped a reply to Bucky, letting him know he was alive and would be home shortly.

Steve tucked the phone into his pocket, stepped into his boots and shrugged the jacket over his shoulders. He spared a last look at Tony, sprawled out on the bed and looking all too inviting for his own good. There was a part of Steve that wanted to forget about leaving, that wanted to climb back into bed and wake him up with soft kisses and see what happened next. That part of Steve was starting to become dangerous to his job. He needed to get his head on right, he had to deal with Hydra, the police. He needed to make sure his family was safe.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Steve turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen. He needed a piece of paper or something so he could at least leave Tony a note. He didn’t want Tony to think he regretted their night together or that he was simply using him. Steve didn’t know why he cared but he did, he needed Tony to know that if nothing else.

The rest of Tony’s place was a whirlwind of genius in motion, if Steve had to guess. The living room was in the middle of the space, directly opposite the front door. There was a TV mounted to the wall and a well-worn soft light blue couch with a glass coffee table in front of it. The coffee table caught Steve’s eye, empty coffee mugs and notebooks and what looked to be bits of a car engine covered the surface, a smear of oil on the glass. Steve managed to find a pen in amongst it though and quickly picked it up before heading to the kitchen.

Tony’s whole place had the same red brick exposed along the wall, giving the place a homely yet rustic feel that seemed to suit Tony perfectly. Steve wondered why he never had it covered yet but decided that he probably would have left it like this as well. The place was a little rough around the edges but not without its charm. Perhaps that’s why Tony liked it so much.

The kitchen was cleaner than the living room, clearly it wasn’t used as much. A few coffee mugs on the sides but mostly it was a clean space with white cupboards and black granite worktops. The light from the window filtered in nicely and Steve found himself imagining Tony stumbling in there in the mornings to make his coffee before work, probably squinting because the sun was too bright, but he hadn’t gotten around to putting up blinds in there yet.

He found an old empty envelope on the breakfast island that separated the kitchen from the living room and decided that would have to do. He didn’t want to start opening draws to look for paper, he figured Tony would value his privacy. Steve scribbled his note quickly, realising the longer he stayed the more chance he had of Tony waking up. Was there a part of him that was stalling on purpose? To see what Tony Stark looked like in the mornings.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought, making his way back to the bedroom to place his note down on the bedside table so Tony would see it when he woke up. Once that was done, Steve knew he needed to leave. There was no reason to stay and he had promised Bucky he was on his way home. He lingered on Tony once more, trying to commit the scene to memory so he could draw it later and then he made his way out of the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him to allow Tony to get some more sleep.

/

Bucky was waiting for him in the hallway when he made it home.

He arms were crossed over his chest and he was scowling when Steve pushed the door open and slipped into the warmth of the house. Steve definitely wasn’t in the mood for this, he needed a shower and a change of clothes and then he could get back to work but Bucky clearly was intent on having this conversation now and Steve knew it was only because he was worried about him.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bucky asked as Steve closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but feel like a teenager being caught sneaking home past curfew.

Steve sighed, turning around to face his best friend, “I took the night off, I needed to let off some steam.”

“Sam told me you left the bar with that mechanic last night,” Bucky replied, “Doesn’t explain why you didn’t come home though.”

“I fell asleep, Buck.” Steve told him gently, “Honest mistake, I’m sorry I worried you.”

That caught Bucky’s attention and he uncrossed his arms, “You fell asleep? You stayed at his place? The whole night?”

Steve knew that tone well, “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Steve.” Bucky insisted, “You don’t stay over. Ever. That’s your rule. You don’t like letting your guard down with strangers.”

“Well, as you can see, he didn’t slit my throat in my sleep, so I think we’re good.” Steve bit back, “It was just one night. It’s done. Let’s get back to work.”

Bucky frowned, stepping closer to Steve then, “You like him, don’t you?” His voice was soft, but the accusation was there. That undertone that cut into Steve’s skin to mock him for being an idiot.

“I probably won’t even see him again.” Steve replied with a bite to his voice.

Bucky sighed, “But you want to.”

Steve didn’t answer right away, staring into Bucky’s face as he wrestled with his own feelings on the matter. A flash of brown eyes and the sound of his name tumbling from Tony’s lips crossed his mind, “Would it be so bad if I did?” Steve asked quietly, knowing Bucky would hear him.

“Oh Punk.” He replied, “You know why it’s a bad idea. You’re a mob boss. You’re the King of Brooklyn. Everyone in town knows your name and half of them want to see you dead in a ditch and take your throne for themselves. We have Hydra coming at us, the cops coming at us. We need you focused, not distracted by a mechanic who doesn’t belong in our world.”

Steve knew Bucky was right. Tony didn’t belong in his world of blood and death and chaos. He had his own world, one that had no business mixing with Steve’s, “I know, Buck.”

“We need to focus on our own survival right now, and we need your head clear to do that. The best thing you can do for your mechanic is to let him carry on with his danger-free life.”

Bucky wasn’t saying it to be mean, he was saying it because it was the truth and Steve needed to hear it. He sighed, knowing that if he ever cared about Tony then the smart thing to do would be to walk away. To stop whatever this attraction between them was before they got in too deep or Tony got killed.

He studied his best friend then, the dark circles under his eyes and the messy bun that his hair was in. He was still in a t-shirt and dark grey joggers and Steve wondered if he had even been to bed yet or if he was up all night waiting for him to come home. Bucky always felt like it was his responsibility to look out for Steve and he knew it was a responsibility he took seriously. He had been doing it since they were boys and Steve lost his mother to pneumonia after a harsh Brooklyn winter where they couldn’t afford heating in their tiny apartment.

He placed a hand on Bucky’s arm then, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “Go get some rest.” He ordered softly, “I need everyone at the top of their game for what’s coming.”

Bucky nodded once, “What’s our next move?”

And just like that, they were back to the way they always were. Planning their survival and plotting to make the world a bit safer for their family. Steve needed that. “I’m waiting for T’Challa to get back to me with a list of returning army vets. See if any names pop up, it’s a long shot but it’s a start. I need you and Nat to start following Hydra members. I want to know who they meet, where, why.”

“See if we can get anything about a leader?”

Steve nodded, “A leader, a plan, anything that points them towards the cop killings.” He rubbed a hand over his beard, he really needed that shower, “Can I trust you and Nat to do this? Or should I pair you up with Clint?”

“Clint still needs to stay low in case the cops are still watching him,” Bucky pointed out, “Nat and I will be fine. We aren’t children, Steve.”

“Things have been a little tense between you two lately.”

Bucky scoffed, “It’s fine. It’s our problem. We aren’t about to bring it into the team.”

Steve squeezed his arm once more before moving past him, “She was good for you.”

“I used to think so, too.” He heard Bucky called out softly as he started up the stairs for his much-needed shower.

He could smell Tony on him, the sharp tang of engine oil, something sweeter like unroasted coffee beans and a musky smell. Sandalwood maybe, or something equally earthy. It was fogging up his mind. Steve needed to be clear on this. Bucky was right, whatever Hydra was planning, it would need all of Steve’s focus to beat it and he would beat it.

When he made it up to his study a brown envelope, A4 in size, caught his attention. It was neatly placed on top of the rest of Steve’s files, but he hadn’t placed it there. It definitely wasn’t there when he had left to meet Fury yesterday. Intrigued, Steve walked over to the envelope, picking it up. It was heavier than he thought, a good chunk of paper. He tore into it with a frown.

That frown turned into dread curling in his chest when he read the top line. The immunity deals. Fury must have had someone post them through the door yesterday and someone must have picked it up and placed it in Steve’s office for him to sort through with the rest of the mail.

The paperwork did look iron-clad, from what Steve could see it was a legally drawn up agreement between the ‘named individual’ and the NYPD office, under the authority of one Detective Inspector Nicholas J. Fury. All that was missing were the names of the second party and a signature at the bottom. Fury had clearly come through for him after all, in his hands were a get out of a jail free card. A way for the team to walk away from this mess with Hydra without facing jail time.

Steve wanted to immediately grab a pen and sign it, but he held back, the paper in his hands feeling heavier than it actually was. He couldn’t make this decision for them; he wouldn’t sign away their right to choose this for themselves although Steve knew he would urge every member of his family to sign on the dotted line if it meant protection.

If it meant they were safe.

Could he sign it himself? To be with them? Could he really march to Fury’s orders on this and pretend he had been working with the cops all along? It felt wrong, it went against everything Steve had done to get this far. Everything he had built up and fought for. Immunity was a dicey game; he knew that much. If things went the way Steve thought they would then there was no guarantee these deals would even hold and if they did there was no way they’d let the team stay together. Immunity and witness protection went together, and once Hydra was off the map the police would want to send the team off to different corners of America and separate them. It would be the smartest thing to do, they would be less of a threat if they were all on their own.

Steve tried to think about it, a life without his family. A life that wasn’t in Brooklyn.

The King of Brooklyn without a Kingdom. The Captain without a team. Then, he wouldn’t be either of those things anymore if he signed those papers. But Steve Rogers had died in a desert on foreign soil so he would he be then?

He thought about his family. He thought about the loss Natasha would feel if she had to separate from them all, especially Clint who had been at her side since they were children. He thought about Bucky, reckless and impulsive. How would he fair without Steve and the team to ground him? Bruce would be alright; Bruce would be able to go back to whatever life he had before Steve had pulled him in. Sam might lose the bar, maybe they’d let him stay in Brooklyn though and ship everyone else out instead? Thor would be difficult; his body count was almost as high as Steve’s if not higher. They wouldn’t want to do him any favours. They’d want to ship him off, minimise his contact with the outside world. They’d want to contain him and call it protection.

But at least he’d be free and alive. He wouldn’t be serving a life sentence in a cell next to Steve’s and driving himself crazy that Loki’s killer was still walking free whilst he was in chains.

Steve sighed, shoving the papers back onto his desk. This wasn’t his decision to make. This was something they had to deal with as a family. Steve knew he needed to talk to them, call a family meeting and explain. He would hold off until he had a clear picture though. He needed to figure out how this thing with Hydra would play out and in order to do that he needed to find out who ran the show now.

He’d call T’Challa after his shower and push him on getting the list of names over to him as soon as possible. There were a lot of unknowns right now and Steve hated not knowing. He couldn’t plan for something he didn’t know about.

The whole idea set his teeth on edge, suddenly he was back in reality and a million miles away from the night he’d spent with Tony.

The Captain had work to do.

/

Tony woke up with a dull ache and an empty bed, he tried not to be disappointed at the fact Steve hadn’t stayed. Why would he? Tony got the impression that he wasn’t the sort to do the whole breakfast in bed thing. He was a mob boss; Tony shouldn’t be anything other than relieved that he didn’t have to deal with his choices in the light of day.

He blinked, eyes taking in the clock on the side. It was late morning and he was definitely late for work. He sighed, Peter would be able to handle it, but he was annoyed at himself for sleeping in so late, he was trying to be more responsible than that these days. Building up a company was easy, keeping it afloat was another thing entirely.

If he got up now, he could be in by lunchtime and then he could just work through till the evening to make up his hours. He had a convertible to look at and an oil change to do for Mr Shaw. Tony nodded, sitting up in bed and tried to ignore the slight burn from last night.

He didn’t think he’d ever had sex that good that he could still feel it the next morning, that toe-curling kind of stuff that left him replaying various bits of it through his head. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, he needed coffee.

The small note on his bedside table caught his eye and he grabbed it. Apparently, Steve was full of surprises because this note was written in his own handwriting.

**I had to leave, needed back at the house. A shower will help with your muscles. I’ll call you.**

**<strike>Cap.</strike> Steve. **

Tony wasn’t an expert, but he was pretty sure one-night stands didn’t normally leave a note. He couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face, the way Steve had started to write ‘Cap’ before changing his mind and going with his actual name. Tony felt a pang of something heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of his stomach.

Steve was right about one thing though; a shower would definitely help. He grabbed his phone from the side, unlocking it to see a message from Peter. Tony let out a small laugh at the picture Peter had sent him. Ned had oil smudged into his fur, happily sitting in Peter’s arms for the photo with a caption: **Ned has ambitions to be the first cat mechanic….**

Tony really did love the bones of that kid. He sent back a few emojis before standing, throwing on his clothes from the night before so he could go and make himself a coffee. His mind drifted to Steve, as it always seemed to now. More importantly, last night.

He hated the fact that he was drawn to Steve when he knew he shouldn’t be, and Tony hated the fact he wasn’t sorry for that even more. Rhodey would be so disappointed in him. But Tony knew he wanted it to happen again, he wanted to see Steve again.

He was probably crazy.

He drained his coffee in seconds, having perfected the art of making it at just the right temperature so he could down it in one go. As soon as the coffee hit his system, he felt more awake and went off for his shower, hoping the warm water would ease the protesting muscles of his lower back and legs.

Tony was showered, dressed, on his second coffee and ready to head to the garage in an hour. His hair was still a mess, but he felt better and was more than ready to put in the hours he needed at work. He grabbed his jacket and keys off the coffee table and headed for the front door. He felt good, like today would be a good day.

That ended the moment he opened his front door and was greeted with the stern face of his father on the other side, hand raised as if he were about to knock.

Tony had a job to hide his shock. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Howard in years, not since he left home and opened up the garage, effectively walking away from the Stark Legacy and Stark Industries for good. So, the fact he was currently standing in Tony’s doorway in his pressed suit and neatly combed hair had Tony reeling.

“Hi son,” Howard greeted, the words sounding awkward and clunky out of his mouth.

Briefly, Tony wondered how far away the driver had parked yet he still couldn’t imagine his father walking up the flights of stairs to get to his apartment. This wasn’t an area of Brooklyn you’d ever expect to see Howard Stark. Tony frowned at that, Obie must have given Howard his address. It was the only explanation as to why Howard was currently invading his space. Obie came to check in from time to time. Once a year maybe, always because Howard was trying to keep tabs on Tony. He had never shown up in person before.

“Howard.” Tony greeted, ignoring the bile in his throat and adding venom to his voice. He couldn’t deal with this today.

Howard was an immovable object, “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Tony replied, “I was actually on my way out.”

“You look well.”

“Just stop. Save us both an awkward conversation and just tell me why you’re here.”

“Can’t a father check in on his son?” Howard asked, his voice void of emotion and Tony wasn’t fooled for a second.

Tony sighed, “Tell me why you’re here.”

Howard seemed to admit defeat then, shoulders sagging a fraction like he was no longer preparing himself for battle, “I need your help.”

Tony laughed. He couldn’t help it, that was a new one, “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

“I need you to come back to the company, back where you belong. I know I wasn’t the best father to you, Tony, I know I made mistakes, but this is about blood. This is about legacy.” Howard reasoned and it was the first time in the conversation that Howard seemed to believe what he was saying.

Tony could feel his blood boiling though, suddenly he felt seventeen again. Drunk and hurt and scared and promising Rhodey he was leaving, he was getting out and he was going to survive.

“Mistakes?” Tony questioned, “Mistakes are forgetting to come to a parents evening or forgetting to buy me a birthday present. Mistakes aren’t third degree burns or a black eye.” He sneered, heart beating wildly in his ribcage.

Howard blanched, Tony had never directly brought up the abuse to him before and he could tell it had thrown him, “You were an insolent child, Tony. You were difficult but you were brilliant. That’s a brilliance we could use. Working in a garage? You’re wasting your potential and you know it.”

Tony shook his head, “I’d rather work as a mechanic then wake up every morning and question whether I still have a soul.”

“What about the company, the legacy?” Howard asked him, “We’ve secured a new contract. A lot of money coming in, a lot of new tech. This is big for us and I want you to be a part of it.”

“I told you, I don’t want to make weapons. I don’t want to sell weapons. I don’t want any part of your legacy if it gets people killed.” Tony insisted, he was gripping his keys so tightly into his palm that he could feel the metal cutting into his skin.

Howard sighed, his face getting redder from anger by the second, “I need to get the Jericho to work, Tony. I just need you to take a look at the designs and see if you can spot anything out of place with the trigger system. That’s it, you don’t even have to come into the office.”

Tony scoffed. The Jericho was a weapon of mass destruction that Howard had spent the better part of a decade working on. He was obsessed with it, needing it to be the deadliest weapon on the market. Tony had solved the issue once when he was 17, he hadn’t even been trying. He’d just designed a new trigger system on the edge of a letter because he was bored. When Howard had found it, Tony knew he planned to use it to make the Jericho a functioning missile and in doing so would end up selling it to arms dealers on the black market. Tony had thrown the paper into the fire, letting it burn and was rewarded with a beating for his troubles. A beating he still carried the scars from.

Howard had been angry that Tony had destroyed it, but he had been angrier that Tony had managed to figure it out when he hadn’t. It was the proof he needed that Tony might end up succeeding him one day. That he might be even more brilliant than even Howard Stark. That wasn’t something Howard would have ever allowed to happen while he was alive.

“I’m not doing this. I have your name; I have your blood but that’s it. We’re not family and I don’t owe you a damn thing.” Tony replied, “Not anymore. I’m not going to help you create a weapon that could be used to kill innocent people, but I hope it will get you to stop resenting me. I’m not seventeen anymore. I don’t need your affection that badly.”

Howard clearly didn’t appreciate that answer and for a moment Tony found himself flinching, waiting for the punch that never came. Instead, Howard straightened his tie, “You’ll rot here. You’ll amount to nothing. That will be your legacy, Tony. Unloved and forgotten.”

Tony nodded, “Looks to me like we have more in common than I thought.” He replied, hand gripping the door, “Goodbye, Howard.”

He slammed the door in his father’s face, and he didn’t feel bad about doing it. He could feel the heat rush to his face and the shaking of his hands caused him to drop the keys to the floor. Tony wasn’t seventeen anymore though, he was a survivor. That was why he waited until he heard Howard’s expensive shoes sounding his retreat before Tony allowed himself a moment to crumple, legs giving out under him as his back slid down the door. He refused to cry; he wouldn’t give Howard that power over him. He never had, even when he was beating him.

Stark men are made of iron and they didn’t cry.

He couldn’t stop shaking though and when he opened his mouth, he was almost ashamed to hear the ragged breathes that torn through his throat. Is this what it felt like to survive? To look evil in the eye and call it by its name?

Tony knew he wouldn’t be making it into the garage today, Peter would cover. He’d slip him an extra bonus in his wages this week but right now he couldn’t find the strength to do much more than breathe and try to stop himself from falling apart.

He was Tony Goddamn Stark, and his father would never be able to break him.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve revelled in moments like this. They were so few and far between that he always tried to take a moment to allow himself to enjoy the time with his family. They were all tightly packed into the living room of their house, the room warm and cosy thanks to the number of bodies in it. Movie nights were something of a tradition for The Avengers, or they used to be, Steve couldn’t actually remember the last time they had found the time to have one.

Still, Bruce and Natasha had made popcorn. Sam had brought a case of beer with him and Clint had emerged from his room with most of his DVD collection for them to chose from. And just like that, it was movie night.

Steve was on the left-hand side of the couch, nearest to the door with Thor sitting next to him with a mountain of popcorn in his hand. Sam was on the floor, popcorn bowl on his lap and a pillow behind his back as he watched the movie. Bruce was dozing off on the other side of the couch, head on his hand, glasses askew on the bridge of his nose. Steve found himself smiling softly at the fact Clint had turned down the movie a fraction so the loud explosions on screen didn’t wake him. Clint was in the armchair next to the couch, an old ratty leather thing that managed to support both him and Natasha who was leaning against the arm with a blanket draped over her lap. Steve didn’t understand how she could be comfortable like that, legs curled under her like a gymnast, but he hadn’t seen her move once since they put the film on. Bucky was next to Sam on the floor, trying to be as far away from Nat as possible without making in obvious. Sometimes, Steve really wanted to shake some sense into his friend because surely whatever happened didn’t warrant this. He knew he was pushing it when he had asked them to work together to trail Hydra members, but he had hoped that if they were forced to spend time together it might prompt then to talk to each other about whatever was happening between them.

So far, no luck. No luck on the Hydra front either. They had been trailing a couple of lower level guys for the past two days and there was nothing new to be learnt. Whoever this guy was, Steve knew he was smart.

Steve knew that should be where his focus was. That’s where everyone else’s focus was. Even now as they watched a film together and laughed and joked and drank. Nat was probably calculating their next steps. Bucky was thinking about targets and points of attack. Steve knew this because that’s what he should have been doing.

Instead, he was glancing down on his phone every few moments, staring at the screen like a drowning man. He’d taken it out of his pocket before they started the movie, he hated it digging into his side when he sat down and it was in his jeans so he’d placed it on the arm of the couch within reach and now it served a purpose to mock him everything he looked at it.

It wasn’t the phone really, but the number inside it that was causing his irrationality. Tony’s number. Steve still hadn’t called him because he said he wasn’t going to. He told Bucky he was done; it was one night, and he was walking away. Yet, he found himself staring at that phone wanting nothing more than to text Tony like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. Tony was probably getting on with his life, was probably relieved to wake up to find Steve gone so that he didn’t have to try and explain what a bad idea this was. Yet, with Hydra and the police up against him and his family surrounding him, Steve wanted nothing more than to talk to Tony.

Wasn’t that an odd thought.

That he wanted something for himself. That he wanted Tony.

He unlocked his screen with a press of his thumb on the pad and the dim light of his home screen flashed up. Everyone else was watching the film with earnest interest, they didn’t realise Steve was occupied with something else.

One little text couldn’t hurt right? Tony could always ignore it if he didn’t want anything more to do with him and then Steve would have his answer. The decision would be made for him and he could move on with the task at hand.

When had Tony Stark become something of an addiction to him? Their kiss in the garage? The night they slept together? Somewhere between talking and snarking at each other?

Steve hated the idea of that, of wanting Tony beyond reason or sense yet whenever he tried to talk some sense into himself, he’d remember the way Tony said his name or his laugh or the sound he made when he came and suddenly Steve didn’t seem to care much for sense anymore.

He was typing out a message before he could stop himself, reasoning that this way the ball was in Tony’s court and he’d probably just ignore the message anyway. Tony was probably the type of guy who had his head on right, besides there was more reason for him to stay away from Steve than the other way around. Steve was dangerous and a killer and definitely not the kind of man you planned anything long term with.

**Hey, sorry I haven’t called. Family stuff. I hope your muscles weren’t too bad. **

He hit send before he could change his mind. It was a simple message; Tony could easily ignore it and then Steve would leave him alone. He wouldn’t call or seek him out.

Steve went back to watching the film, stealing some popcorn from Sam’s bowl and tried not to stare at his phone like a lovesick teenager. He had no idea what was happening with the film, having missed a large chunk of it due to his internal debate but he tried to play catch up and laugh when everyone else did.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when his phone buzzed on the arm next to him. He hadn’t expected a reply, at least he hadn’t hoped for one. He was quick to pick up his phone and open the message. His heart sank when he realised it was from T’Challa, not Tony.

Of course, it wasn’t Tony. He didn’t want Tony to message him. He needed Tony to ignore it so Steve could be done with this whole infatuation.

T’challa’s message was blunt and to the point, ever a politician: **List of vets is in your inbox. You owe me, I’ve put your name down for the Gala next month. We need the votes. **

Steve sighed, he knew T’Challa’s help wouldn’t come without a cost and whilst he had always supported T’Challa’s political campaign and run for office he absolutely hated having to go to his galas and functions to strong arm him some of the more difficult votes. Steve hated public appearances of anything, especially when they involved a tux and a fake interest in other people’s political views.

He texted back a quick ‘okay’, because he knew he had to and then he was excusing himself from the rest of the group to head to his office. The list could have waited until tomorrow, but Steve knew he would never be able to sleep whilst there was work to be done. Bucky gave him a raised eyebrow on his way out but otherwise he left without too much disruption, the team deserved a night off.

As soon as he was at his desk with the list of names up on his laptop, Steve was in full Captain mode. He had a list of just under a hundred names to go through, but he was good at this. He knew army protocols and he knew a fair bit about the man he was looking for. He started off by crossing out anyone who returned home due to injury or medical issues, whoever was running Hydra had to convince them he would be able to take on Steve and win therefore he was probably in peak physical condition. He then removed the women from the list because Sitwell had told him he was a man. That left 61 names to sort through.

Steve rubbed his forehead, pouring himself a helping of scotch before he got back to work. He looked deeper at the files T’Challa had sent over then, removing anyone that didn’t have the right training in tactical operations and weapons. He wasn’t looking for the average army guy, he was looking for someone smart, trained, someone like him.

23 names left on the list and that was a lot more manageable, it allowed Steve to take a gulp of his drink and scan the names left on his screen. He stopped short at one name, just over halfway down the list. It was a name he recognised, a name he remembered. A man he once knew.

Brock Rumlow.

Steve felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end just thinking about him. He’d been in his and Sam’s unit for a mission in Afghanistan, brought in through Special Ops to act as tactical back-up for an extraction of military intel from a small village in the desert. Steve had hated Rumlow immediately, he was savage and brutal and had no regard of civilian life. He was one of the few guys Steve guessed had joined the army because he got paid to shoot people rather than to serve his country. He was proved right during that mission together when Rumlow shot 17 civilians in order to clear them a path to get the intel back to base rather than try an alternative longer route.

Steve didn’t even bother to read the rest of the list. It was Rumlow, it had to be Rumlow. He just needed to prove it so he could take the information to Fury and devise a plan to stop him.

The only chance they had of this working was if Rumlow didn’t know who Steve was. It’s doubtful he’d remember a bright-eyed, clean shaved good little army boy from years ago when compared to the harden mobster Steve was now, but he didn’t want to take any chances. If Rumlow didn’t know who the Captain was then they needed to keep it that way. If he did, it could already be over. All it would take who be for Rumlow to give that information to the wrong people and Steve would have a mob at his door before sunrise.

Steve needed to deal with this and quickly.

The sound of his phone buzzing brought him out of his head, Steve drained the last of his scotch before grabbing his phone.

His heart sped up at the name on the screen, eyes blinking to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Tony’s name was there, along with the notification that he’d gotten a new message to open. He’d completely forgot about waiting for Tony’s reply whilst he was dealing with the Rumlow situation and now Steve found himself eager to open it.

**I survived. I do believe your note promised me a phone call though, not a text ;)**

Steve could help the smirk that crossed his face. Tony Stark clearly liked playing with fire because not only had he text back, but he had also made it flirty. He was challenging Steve, calling him out. He seemed to be saying, if you want me, come and get me. How was Steve meant to refuse an offer like that? When Tony was clearly on the same page as him.

He hit the call phone, bring the phone to his ear and waited for Tony to answer. His surprised but happy voice came over the phone after two rings and Steve melted into it. He might have stayed up on the phone with Tony talking until the sky outside was starting to lighten and Tony reminded him they had to sleep because he definitely had work to do tomorrow but if he did then Steve decided it was no one else’s business but theirs.

/

It was the next day when Steve came back from a run to find Natasha and Bucky arguing in the kitchen loudly, almost loud enough the he could hear it from outside, that he knew he couldn’t let this continue anymore.

He made his way to the kitchen with a scowl, trainers on the hardwood floor and sweat making his t-shirt cling to him uncomfortably. His hair was sticking to his forehead and as much as he wanted a shower, he followed the sound of his friend’s voices instead.

“You were being reckless!” Natasha shouted as Steve rounded the corner to see them. She was standing at one end of the kitchen table, placed in the centre of the space. Her hands were on her hips and Steve could feel her anger from where he stood in the doorway.

Bucky was on the opposite side of the room to her, clearly intend to make this a stand off between them. He had his arms crossed like a sulking child, but his tone was biting, “I told you I had it!”

“This is what you call ‘having it’? Running in there to engage without any clue about what weapons he was packing or whether they were anyone else around?” Natasha demanded; she wasn’t shouting which made it worse. Natasha’s even tone and steely eyes spoke volumes.

Bucky wasn’t looking at her, eyes focused on the wall above her head when he replied, “We got him didn’t we? No cuts, no bruises. Guy barely put up a fight.”

“It was dangerous and reckless, and you know it.” Natasha replied, “You could have been killed.”

Steve had heard enough, “Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?”

Both pairs of eyes turned their gaze on him and at least they both had the decency to look guilty that he had caught them arguing like children rather than the gang members they were.

It was Natasha that spoke, “Things took an unexpected turn with the guy we were tailing for you. We dealt with it.”

“By that she means, we knocked him out and tied him to the radiator in the garage.” Bucky snorted.

Steve’s eyes flashed to the door leading down to the garage and back to them, “What happened?” He kept his voice even, but it had been a mistake to pair Bucky and Natasha together for this one. Clearly, whatever they had broken up about ran deeper than Steve thought and now it was starting to affect the whole team and their operation.

“He had a meeting with Hydra’s leader this morning, we didn’t see a face or hear a name, but it was definitely him. Four-man escort to the meeting and he was in there for over an hour. Bucky got sick of waiting it out and decided to engage.” Natasha told him.

Bucky cut in, “I saw an opportunity and I took it. We need to find out who’s behind Hydra, we need to get a name.”

Steve ignored both of them, crossing his arms over his chest to change his stance. Gone was Steve Rogers. The Captain had business, “Was anyone hurt?”

“He had a gun, but I managed to get the jump on him before he could shoot our resident hot-head.” Natasha replied, “We’re fine. He’s probably got a concussion though, I had to hit him on the head. Figured we might as well bring him to you for an interrogation after going to all the effort.”

“I’ll deal with him.” Steve replied, eyes narrowing, “What I don’t want to deal with is the two of you. If you can’t work together anymore you need to tell me now because I won’t put this family at risk for whatever is happening between you two.”

Bucky sighed, “We’re fine.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Steve argued, “If you were fine this wouldn’t have happened today. I didn’t give you the order to engage. I didn’t tell you to bring him in. I told you to follow him. If you two can’t sort your shit out, then I can’t have you in the field.”

“We had to make a choice, Steve. As soon as Bucky went after him, it was leave him there for Hydra to find or bring him back here where you might be able to get something from him. It was a reckless situation and not our style but maybe something good will come out of this. A name.” Natasha said.

Steve sighed; he couldn’t explain to them that wasn’t why he was worried. He was worried because they needed to lay low. Fury and the police were looking at them for being suspects in the police killings so beating up gang members on the street in broad daylight was the kind of sloppy they couldn’t afford right now. It was playing into Hydra’s hands.

“I’ll do this one by myself.” Steve told them, “Both of you go take a walk, have a conversation. I don’t know what’s going on between you and it’s none of my business. You don’t bring it into our job though. You know that.”

Bucky nodded sharply and was out of there before Steve could utter another word. He’d go to Sam’s and rant and calm down and when he came back later, he’d be more reasonable, Steve knew. Natasha stayed for a moment, eyes on Steve like she wanted to say more.

“You know you can talk to me about this. I’ll listen.” Steve told her softly.

She gave him a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, “He’s your best friend, I won’t put you in that position.”

“You’re my friend too, Nat.” Steve said, “Just, don’t bottle it up.”

She nodded, pulling her Glock out of its holster on her hip and handed it over to Steve, “You might need that. I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Clean-ups always faster with two.”

Then she was gone, breezing past Steve with her mask back in place and her head high. That was the problem with survivors. They weren’t very good at vulnerable. Vulnerable gets you killed.

Steve pushed that out of his mind as he entered the garage, gun in hand. He headed down the steps steadily, heavy feet announcing his entrance.

His guest was exactly where Natasha said he’d be, sitting against the wall with his hands tied and cuffed to the radiator over by the cars. He was bleeding from his head, clearly where Natasha had hit him with the butt of her gun, but he was awake and staring at Steve with wide eyes. Someone, probably Bucky, had tapped his mouth shut.

Steve never got tired of that, the fear when they first saw him, he moved closer as he clicked the safety off the gun in his hands. He eyed his guest with a quick smile before moving over to get a wooden stool from the workbench and bring it over so he could sit in front of the Hydra member.

“I don’t normally bring my work home with me,” Steve said, “Forgive the gym shorts, I decided I should give you my full attention first.”

There were muffled words against the tape and Steve frowned, he leaned forward and grabbed one end. The tape was ripped clean off, leaving an angry red mark across his mouth.

The first word out of the guy’s mouth wasn’t an exclamation of pain though, it was grovelling, and Steve hated grovelling, “Please, I don’t know anything alright? Your guys jumped me, but I don’t know anything I swear. Jesus, I swear on my life.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “Your life isn’t going to mean much to me when I kill you. Why don’t we have a conversation first?”

“You’ll kill me anyway,” Was the reply, “The Captain doesn’t leave loose ends.”

“You had a meeting today with Hydra’s new boss. I just need to know who that is.” Steve responded, “If you answer me honestly, I promise I’ll make it quick.”

The guy laughed, “It drives you crazy doesn’t it? Not knowing.”

Steve didn’t even blink as he shot him. One bullet lodged into his shoulder and the Hydra man screamed out in pain, cuffs rattling against the metal of the radiator as he tried to move. Steve watched the steady bloom of blood seeping through his clothes.

“That won’t kill you, but it is going to hurt like a bitch.” Steve told him, “Let’s try an easier question. What’s the plan? Kill a few cops, get my team to take the fall?”

The answer was more pained then before, heavy breathing puncturing the beginning of the sentence, “Oh, you really don’t know.”

Steve could feel the anger in his veins, heart racing as he stood up, kicking the stool back so he had some room to move. He was crouching over his guest in seconds, the barrel of Natasha’s gun pressed firmly into the meat of his thigh, just above the knee.

“This one is all tissue, try not to scream.” He advised and then the shot echoed out through the room. The guy let out a grunt and something that might have been a shout in pain if he wasn’t biting his own tongue to try and not let Steve see his agony. It was a brave choice, Steve admired that.

The wound oozed blood sluggishly, staining the dark material of his blue jeans as Steve pulled the gun back to look at his handy work. Again, not a fatal wound but would hurt like hell if he tried to move or walk.

Steve leaned back on the balls of his feet, “I can do this all day, but I would much rather be killing your boss so why don’t you tell me where I can find him?” Steve asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know. I don’t know where he is. Sometimes he’s at the base, sometimes he’s not. He’s all over, rallying support and putting plans into place.” The guy told him; eyes glued to the blood pooling from his leg.

Steve nodded, “I still need a name.”

The guy gritted his teeth, clearly in pain. The blood from his shoulder was steadily trickling down his arm and his leg was pooling blood into the floor. Steve wasn’t even sure he heard the question above the absorbing pain radiating from his body.

Steve moved to unlock the cuffs from the radiator, allowing the man’s arm to slump down in his lap. His fingers twitched as he tried to regain feeling into them. Steve didn’t do it to be kind, he grabbed onto the guy’s good arm and dragged him away from the wall, all but throwing him into the direction of the cars that the garage housed.

The Hydra man spat blood as his face hit the floor and to Steve’s surprise he actually tried to sit up, using his good arm for leverage as he righted himself into a sitting position with his back against the side of one of the vintage cars in Steve’s collection. Steve almost wanted to like the guy. Almost.

“Okay, so about that name?” Steve pressed.

“He’ll kill me.”

Steve wanted to laugh, “He isn’t the one using you for target practice.”

“You don’t know him, he’s unhinged. He wants The Avengers gone. He wants Brooklyn. You won’t last the year, Captain.”

“Brock Rumlow? Is that who you work for?” Steve tested, “You aren’t telling me a name if I guess it, right?”

The reaction was the one Steve was hoping for. The way his eyes darted left and his pupils grew bigger. Steve had guessed right, and it was making his guest nervous. He gripped at his bad leg with his now freed hands, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You have no idea,” He replied through gritted teeth, “Rumlow’s coming for everything you have. You think this was just about a few lousy cop killings? This is bigger than you know and when he comes for you, I hope you beg him for mercy.”

Steve smirked, “I don’t beg. When he comes for me, he best hopes he kills me first chance he gets. He isn’t going to like what happens if he doesn’t.”

“I hope he comes for the pretty red-head first,” He replied with a sneer, “She looks like she can be feisty.”

Steve doesn’t dignify that with a verbal response, instead he aims his gun and shoots. A kill shot, right between the eyes. The impact has his body shuddering back and a heavy metal thud from the car behind. Then the guy’s head slums forward so his chin rests on his chest and Steve can see the mess the bullet made of the back of his head and the dent it put into the car behind him from the impact.

The silence is deafening, and Steve takes a moment to collect himself, eyes on the shell of a man before him. He stands up to his full height, putting the safety back on the gun in his hands, “I might have let you live if it wasn’t for that last comment,” Steve tells the lifeless body in his garage as he moves to place the gun on the worktop and grab the cleaning supplies from a bucket they kept down there for that very reason, “No one threatens my family.”

He pulls out plastic wrap, bleach and a bunch of other chemicals and gets to work, he hates having bodies in his garage. He moves the corpse onto the plastic and manages to wrap it up neatly to be disposed of before he starts on the bleach, smothering the floor in it to try and get rid of the blood stains.

Natasha comes down as he is scrubbing the mess, hands stained red from the blood and the once yellow sponge in his hand now pink. She takes in the sight, the body in plastic and Steve on his hands and knees as he scrubs furiously at the concrete.

“I would have helped,” She offered, grabbing her own sponge from the bucket and joining Steve on his knees to start mopping up the red marking the drab floor.

Steve doesn’t even look at her while he scrubs, “You’ve had a tough day.”

She let a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth, “So have you.”

He hates killing people sometimes, even when they deserve it. It takes him right back to his days in the army when the orders of execution came in and he was meant to simply follow them without question. It was a matter of security. So was this, family security. Steve knew he’d cover the streets of Brooklyn red with blood if that’s what it took to protect his family and stop Hydra.

He scrubbed harder at the floor under his hands, Natasha working next to him, “Thor and I can take care of the body. That’s his remit after all.”

Steve nodded, “Clean disposal on this one, we don’t need Hydra finding out we’re kidnapping their foot soldiers and killing them.”

“We’ll handle it.” She promised, “Did you get anything useful?”

“It’s worse than we thought, Nat. Hydra is playing a bigger game here, the killings are the tip of the iceberg. We might not be walking away from this one.”

“If we’re going to lose then at least we’ll do it together.”

Steve wanted to laugh bitterly, there was literal blood on his hands and a body near the stairs and she honestly still wanted to fight beside him, “What if that’s not enough?”

She leaned over and placed a hand on his, stopping his cleaning. Steve looked at her smaller, delicate hand on top of his, both pink with blood. They all carried horrors with them, “Is it. This family. That’s what we’re fighting for. Hydra isn’t going to win this one, Steve. We can’t let them.”

He looked at her then, blue eyes staring into green, “I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe, Nat. Any of you.”

“It’s our choice, not yours. Stop thinking you’re the only one who cares in this family. We want to protect you just as much as you want to protect us. We’re in this together. Monsters or heroes, I’m with you, okay?”

He tried to give her a tired lopsided smile, “Okay.”

“I’ll go see if Thor is in his room, get this body moved.” She said, placing her sponge back into the bucket, “Bright side? You finally have a reason to call your mechanic.”

Steve frowned, following her gaze over to the dent in his vintage car with a genuine smile on his face. If only Natasha knew the half of it. She might be right though; he would need to get that dent out of the side of the car door and Tony was a good mechanic. It would be rude not to ask him to take a look, right?

It also meant Steve could see him again, and that was something he couldn’t help but smile at.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony couldn’t help but feel nervous has he made his way up to the porch of Steve’s house with his toolbox in hand. Steve had called and asked if he could take a look at a damaged car and Tony had jumped at the chance of seeing him again. It was stupid and reckless and yet Tony couldn’t help himself.

It was a biting cold day, so he had several layers on to protect him against the chill yet the short walk from his car to the front door was enough to have him shaking. He always hated the cold. He knocked on the door quickly, eyes scanning up and down the street curiously. It was weird to think The Captain lived here, on a normal street in a well-off area of Brooklyn. It was just a normal brownstone, in a street full of them and yet Tony knew this brownstone was anything but normal.

He wondered if the other residents knew a gang lived in their street. Did Steve smile at his neighbours when they crossed paths? Or did they cross the street to avoid him? Tony shook his head, it was Brooklyn, people weren’t exactly that friendly to begin with.

The door opened and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the man staring back at him wasn’t Steve. Instead he was older, a salt and pepper quality to his hair and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. This is what gang members looked like now? Tony was thinking of the stereotypical dark colouring and guns. A tattoo maybe? A gang sign? Something?

“Hi, I’m Tony, the Mechanic. The Captain asked me to fix his car?” Tony greeted with a smile and a nod towards his toolbox.

The other man smiled, opening the door wider to let Tony in, “Of course, come on in.”

Tony was grateful to be out of the cold, moving past the older man and into the warmth of Steve’s house, “Sorry if I’m late, work at the shop has been crazy over the last couple of days.”

The smile that answered him was warm and friendly, “You’re right on time. Cap had to head over and help Sam with some heavy lifting at the bar, but he should be back soon. I’m Bruce, I’ll take you to your playground for the day.”

Tony followed him as he headed towards the back of the house, “Are you a gang member too?”

Bruce laughed, “Sort of. Honorary member, maybe? I’m a doctor.”

“Of course, he’s got a doctor on the payroll.” Tony muttered although Bruce heard it.

“Our Captain and the team often need patching up, it made it easier if I was here rather than them coming into my clinic and scaring my patients.” Bruce replied, making his way through the kitchen and down towards the basement.

Tony followed him; toolbox heavy in his hands until Bruce came to a stop in the garage. The car in question was beautiful, a vintage BMW 230SL top down convertible. It was a dark brown colour with a cream leather interior that just seemed to scream 1960s era. It was in perfect condition as well, Tony would bet money on it still being in running order.

There was a large dent in the car door on the passenger side, something rusted and flaky against the paintwork.

“Is that blood?” He asked before he could stop himself, putting the toolbox down and heading over to inspect the car.

Bruce shuffled from one foot to the other, “You know who he is, you really want me to answer that?”

“I guess not,” Tony mused, “How’d you sign up for this, you don’t seem like the gang type.” Then when he thought better of it, he added, “You don’t have to answer that, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine,” Bruce laughed, “Honestly, I’m not supposed to be here. I’ve known The Captain for years, he was still a teenager really. I used to treat him in the early days. I guess he remembered me because after The Avengers became a thing, I got a reluctant job as their doctor.”

“Reluctant? Couldn’t you say no?”

“I did at first. I didn’t want to start messing with gang stuff. I was working most days at the hospital and volunteering at a clinic downtown most nights. It’s how I met Cap actually, he used to come into the clinic as a kid when he needed treatment. Not many people can afford healthcare these days, I volunteer there to do what I can to help them.”

Tony nodded, “He grew up poor?”

“That’s his story to tell.” Bruce replied, “All I know, if it wasn’t for Cap’s monthly donations to the clinic it would have been shut down by now. Money for lights, heating, the space, the medical supplies. It’s not cheap. Most of the workers are volunteers but the equipment costs money. He saved that place and for that I’ll always be grateful”

Tony found himself wanting to know more about this side of Steve that apparently helped out people in need and funded medical clinics so people could get treatment when they couldn’t afford a hospital, “The most feared mob boss in Brooklyn gives to charity?”

“You really think I’d be living here if he was the monster everyone sees him as?” Bruce asked, “He’s a tortured soul, that’s for sure. He isn’t a good man, he needed to survive, and he couldn’t do both, but he isn’t a monster. I don’t believe that, even if he does.”

“Are you allowed to be telling me this?” Tony asked gently.

Bruce shrugged, “Probably not. But he clearly like you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He hired you again, didn’t he?” Bruce replied, “He doesn’t do that, ever. Never uses the same person twice. He doesn’t like people poking around that he doesn’t trust. This is your second time here, clearly he likes you.”

“I’m a very good mechanic.” Tony answered, heart hammering in his chest at the statement.

Bruce smiled, “I don’t doubt it. I’ll let you get to it; I’ll be in the kitchen so shout me if you need anything.”

Tony let him go, a million questions burning on the back of his throat. Clearly, there was more to Steve than everyone else knew. A side to The Captain that wasn’t all blood and death and business. A side that Tony had gotten a glimpse of when they first kissed, when they had slept together.

It was a side he wanted to know more about.

/

Steve couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face when he finally made it home to see Tony in his space. He had headed to the garage as soon as he relieved Bruce of his task and let him get back to a shift at the clinic downtown and now, Steve found himself stopping on the bottom step and just taking in the sight before him.

Tony was hard at work, in ratty jeans and a tank top. He had a button-down shirt knotted around his waist that he must have taken off when it got too warm because now more of his tanned skin was revealed to Steve’s gaze. Those deceiving biceps that held more muscle mass than they first appeared and the strong defined shoulders peeking out of the vest top.

He had his earphones in, so he hadn’t heard Steve’s arrival, humming to himself as he smoothed a rag over the newly fixed metal of Steve’s car. Steve could see it gleaming from where he stood, Tony had done a good job.

Steve couldn’t have Tony in his space and not get closer, it was like finding water in the desert and not running to it. He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle the mechanic who was crouched down, focused on his work.

He reached out to hook his finger around the wire of the nearest earphone, pulling it free of Tony’s ear with a smile. He could hear the bass of the song as he pulled it out. Tony whipped round, instantly relaxing when he saw Steve smiling at him.

“What is it with you and hating on my music?” Tony quipped as he pulled the other earphone out and tucked them into the pocket of his jeans. He straightened up to his full height, wiping his hands on the rag.

Steve smirked, “Just trying to get your attention.”

“Perfect timing actually,” Tony replied, “Just about done here. What do you think? I experimented with a new metal we have in at the shop to help enforce the dented patch, knocked the bodywork right out again. I had trouble matching the shade, that’s the issue with vintage cars. Always a nightmare to find the right stuff.”

“It’s amazing, Tony.” Steve said, hands running over the paintwork, he could barely feel the dent now, “Thanks for getting it done so quickly.”

Tony nodded, “It wasn’t a difficult job. I think I spent longer buffing that shine back into her than I did sorting out the dent. It’s a beautiful car, Cap.”

“I’m quite fond of it,” Steve smiled, turning to lean back against the bumper and slide his hands into his pockets, “Remember when we first met, and I told you I wanted to be a getaway driver? Well, this was the car I imagined doing that in.”

“Not a practical choice.” Tony mused, “Engine’s a little small and the turning circle isn’t as good as the newer models.”

Steve chuckled, “It was an aesthetic choice. The idea of the open road, no roof so I could feel the sun on my face. Endless possibilities in front of me.”

“Where would you go?” Tony asked, “If you could go anywhere?”

He wanted to know; this was the side of Steve he wanted to explore. This man who had started out as a kid with dreams and ideals and thoughts on how his life might go. He wanted to know how a kid who dreamed of being a getaway driver turned into The Captain.

Steve thought for a moment, “I’m not sure. Just drive I guess, see where I ended up.”

“Sounds like you’d need a navigator, someone in the passenger seat with the map when you eventually got lost and ended up in a backwater town and nothing for miles in any direction.”

“Are you offering?” Steve said, the smile was there. Coy, alluring and almost dangerous.

Tony swallowed, heart pounding in his ears. Was Steve flirting with him? Was he reading the right body language rolling off the mob boss in waves? He took a step forward, closing the gap between them, “In this dream scenario? Maybe I am.”

Steve’s eyes were on his, sinful and dark and Tony couldn’t look away. The air was thick around them and the silence was deafening. He could have heard a pin drop; it was that palpable between them. Neither one dared to move. Neither wanted to break whatever was holding them in place.

Tony’s eyes drifted to Steve’s lips, full and slightly parted and begging for attention. What Tony wouldn’t give to have those lips on his. To draw that bottom lip between his teeth and make Steve moan.

Steve was clearly thinking along the same lines.

“We shouldn’t do this. It’s a really bad idea.”

Yet Tony was still moving closer, lips grazing the underside of Steve’s jaw as he stretched upwards. Steve was reaching for him as well, despite his words, fingers pulling at the shirt Tony had knotted around his waist.

Tony hummed inches away from Steve’s mouth, hot breath and a sinful voice, “A terrible idea.” He agreed.

Then their lips were colliding and there was no more room for reason. Tony’s mouth was hot and demanding against Steve’s as he rested his weight against him, leaning up into the kiss. Steve’s hands were still tugging the shirt at his waist loose, letting the material pool to the floor at their feet. Without the obstacle in his way, his hands were free to explore the span of Tony’s hips eagerly.

Steve pulled him closely, not willing to have any space between them now they were this far in, his tongue invaded Tony’s mouth like a drowning man looking for the last sip of water and feeling Tony all but melt against him was payment enough.

Steve could feel his cock grow harder at the lines of Tony’s body pressing against his, he could feel Tony’s own hard cock through his jeans. He wanted this as well, he had from the moment Steve had stepped into the garage.

Tony pulled back from the kiss, lips moving to suck at the underside of Steve’s jaw, just below the line of his beard and Steve felt himself shudder from the attention. His fingers slipped under the edge of the black tank top Tony was wearing, rough fingertips meeting smooth skin as Steve followed the line of Tony’s jeans round to the small trail of hair at his navel.

He felt more than heard Tony’s sharp intake of breath as Steve’s fingers dipped lower, just into the line of his jeans and he couldn’t help but smile, rewarding Tony with a further slip of his hand into the material.

Tony’s hands were moving then, clearly wanting to give as good as he got, and Steve had to admit he was thankful for the car behind him when he felt Tony’s palm press over his crotch. Steve rocked up into his hand shamelessly, partly to show Tony just how much he wanted him and partly because with every second his cock was getting harder and the friction of Tony’s hand was deliciously teasingly as he rubbed over Steve’s own jeans.

There was a playful little nip against his throat that Steve shouldn’t have found as hot as he did and then it was like a dam had burst for both of them. The need and desire for each other overwhelming the teasing and slow exploration.

Steve’s hands pulled out of Tony’s jeans long enough to flick the button open and get the zip down before diving right back in, fingers moving into his boxers to cup him without the barrier. Tony’s whole body tensed at the move before he fumbled with Steve’s jeans, getting the button and fly out of the way so he could have better access.

Their lips joined together again in a filthy kiss, mouths battled teasingly and when Tony moaned because Steve had brushed his fingers over the head of Tony’s cock, he tasted it on his own tongue.

“Brilliant idea.” Tony breathed as he pulled back, stroking Steve inside his jeans softly, “Best idea I’ve ever had.”

Steve growled, hands snaking round to grab at Tony’s ass, round and full in his hands as he pulled Tony against him, “I don’t have anything down here…”

“There’s lube and condoms in my toolbox.” Tony told him, hands pulling out of his jeans to start working open the buttons on Steve’s shirt.

Steve groaned loudly because if he wasn’t hard before he was painful hard now, “Did you come here to seduce me?” He asked coyly, hands squeezing Tony’s ass as the mechanic practically ripped the last two buttons off Steve’s shirt so he could get it off him.

“Is it working?” Tony retorted, tugging insistently so Steve had no choice but to remove his hands from Tony’s body so they could get his shirt off.

Steve didn’t think Tony needed a verbal answer to that question because the rock-hard cock in his jeans and his blown pupils were probably answer enough, “Take your pants off.” Steve asked him, already heading over to Tony’s toolbox to grab their supplies. He threw them into the driver’s seat of the car Tony had been working on as Tony rid himself of his pants, shoes and socks.

He stood there proudly, cock flush against his stomach and a wide grin on his face, “Are you going to fuck me here?”

Steve was addicted to this man, a little bit more with every word that left his mouth. He grabbed Tony in a searing kiss and hoisted him up, letting his legs wrap around Steve’s waist for leverage. Tony smiled into the kiss as he got settled and Steve was pretty sure the roll of his hips against Steve’s erection was absolutely on purpose.

Then Steve was moving, hands back on Tony’s ass as he jostled him about long enough to get the passenger side door open of the BMW 230SL so he could climb inside. He sat himself down on the cream leather passenger seat with Tony in his lap, arranging himself so his knees were either side of Steve’s thighs and he had a grip on Steve’s shoulders to steady himself.

Tony’s hands were already moving, fingers mapping out the planes of Steve’s chest, across the valleys and dips of his body as Tony ducked his head down to nip and lick at Steve’s collarbone.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Steve groaned, hands squeezing Tony’s thighs softly.

Steve leaned forward, throwing Tony off balance enough to have him leaning back and baring his throat to Steve’s attention. His hands were already pushing the tank top up and off Tony’s body because it was just an annoyance at that point. Then Tony’s skin was bare to him again, all that tanned flesh and those dusty nipples begging to be touched.

How could Steve refuse?

His mouth moved of its own accord, dragging his lips down Tony’s throat until he could pull a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue out against the bud.

Tony’s hands moved into his hair, gripping tightly as Steve repeated the move. He could feel Tony’s hips rocking upwards, trying to get some friction for the heat pooling into his gut. Steve could already see precome beading at the head of Tony’s cock. God, how he wanted to taste him.

Later.

He had plans for now.

He released the dusty bud, dragging his mouth back up towards Tony’s throat, sucking a mark into his skin just above the collarbone. Tony preened, pulling at Steve’s hair and rocking his hips a little bit firmer against Steve’s stomach.

“You’re going to give me beard burn.” Tony panted into his ear as Steve moved his lips over the mark again.

Steve smiled against his skin, “I’m also going to fuck you.”

Tony rolled his hips at the idea, smile of his face wide, “In your vintage getaway car? Is this some fantasy of yours?”

Steve didn’t answer him, flashed Tony a smirk and reach over for the lube he had thrown into the driver’s seat. He poured a generous helping of the lube onto his fingers, letting Tony watch as it dribbled down the digits, coating them.

Tony swallowed thickly, cock jerking in arousal and then Steve was moving, hand between Tony’s legs to find his entrance. Tony’s eyes grew wider as he felt the first blunt digit pressing against him, immediately trying to push backwards to let Steve inside. Steve chuckled at his eagerness, pushing his way into Tony’s tight warmth and relishing in the way the soft flesh gave way to his finger as he pushed deeper.

The hands in his hair moved back to his shoulders, Tony slowly moving back and forth to try and gain some friction from the finger Steve was working inside him. The lube made it easier for him to bury the digit into Tony’s hole, moving it in and out for a couple of thrusts to make sure Tony was coated in the lube as well.

Then he added another finger, Tony’s walls protesting slightly at the intrusion before relaxing into it. Tony was still rocking slightly, using his knees for leverage and Steve couldn’t resist diving in for a kiss. Tony was so gorgeous like this, unable to dampen down his own pleasure and want for Steve.

Steve pushed his lips against Tony’s, pushing his fingers deeper inside him and curling them forward. Tony bucked against him, mouth falling open in a gasp against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure shot through him.

He did it again, moving his fingers out to the tip before thrusting them back in, waiting until they were deep inside Tony to curl them forward again and hit his prostate. Tony’s eyes fluttered close, cock jerking against his stomach and Steve could feel him gripping his shoulders a little tighter.

He slid them back out again, pushing a third finger in along with the others this time, stretching Tony open even further. He curled all three fingers inside of him, getting a proper feel of his prostate that had Tony shaking above him and digging his nails into Steve’s shoulder blades.

“Steve…” He panted, hips moving of there own accord when Steve pulled his fingers back, automatically seeking the pleasure having them inside him provided.

Steve thrust them back into Tony’s warmth, curling them deliciously to press against his prostate. Tony almost whined, cock dripping with precome.

“I want to make you come like this.” Steve told him hoarsely, fingers buried to the hilt as they rubbed against his prostate again. Tony pushed back against him, trying to prolong the feeling.

If Tony wanted to say something, he couldn’t seem to form the words. His pleasure making his pupils blown and his skin shine with sweat. He was moving back against Steve’s hand, fucking himself onto his fingers when Steve was going too slow.

Tony stayed like that, Steve’s fingers inside him as he rolled his hips, not pulling away from Steve’s hand. Steve understood what he needed and immediately started moving his fingers, rubbing against Tony’s prostate gently with the pads of his fingers.

Tony moaned, “Like that.” He muttered, eyes shut as he rolled his hips again, making himself shudder at the pleasure being strung out of his body.

Steve had a front row seat to that pleasure like this, Tony Stark in his lap, chasing his own arousal and what a sight that was.

Steve sped up his administrations, Tony was taunt like a bow above him, frantically rolling his hips without any rhythm but the need to chase the edge of his pleasure. Steve could see him quivering with the effort to reach it, knees pressing into the edge of his thighs and his fingers were digging into Steve’s shoulders so hard he was sure it would bruise.

But Tony was beautiful like this, all strung out and panting with Steve’s fingers inside him.

He kept moving, rubbing against the little bundle of flesh that was making Tony’s pleasure mount, his lips moved back to his neck, sucking against the hammering pulse point in Tony’s throat. He was going to come like this, without Steve even needing to touch his cock.

His whole body was shaking as Steve gripped him tightly with one hand on his hip, pulling away from his neck long enough to reach up to cup Tony’s jaw, moving his head down so their foreheads were pressed together.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, let me you see like this.” Steve whispered in the space between them, that same term of endearment as before slipping out easily. Tony did as he asked, eyes fluttering open until dark brown met dark blue. Steve rubbed against his prostate faster, pushing a little harder against it and then Tony was coming hard.

His whole body clenched around Steve’s hand, shaking with the effort of his orgasm raging through him. Steve kept his eyes on Tony’s, feeling the cum hit his own stomach from Tony’s cock as he came.

Tony was still rocking his hips slightly, riding out the after shocks of his orgasm as Steve slipped his hand out, wiping the mess of lube onto his jeans before moving his hand up to steady Tony’s body.

Tony’s forehead was still pressed against his, “I’ve never come like that before,” He whispers between them, still out of breath, “Without someone jerking me off.”

Steve kissed him, deep and long, “You’re gorgeous like this, you know? I can’t even think straight.”

“Let me take care of you now,” Tony insists, pulling back from Steve’s hold to try and get Steve’s jeans and boxers out of the way.

It’s difficult in a car and it’s not something Steve thought about beforehand but together they managed to move enough to get Steve’s pants down by his ankles and have his cock standing free and erect between them.

Steve is all muscle, thick cords of thigh and lines of abs and Tony makes a point of feeling it all before reaching for Steve’s cock, stroking him in one long move from base to tip. Tony swipes a thumb over the head, coating it in precome but moving up to suck the digit into his mouth.

Steve sees stars when Tony actually moans around his thumb, pulling the digit free of his mouth with a grin. He’s fighting dirty and Steve loves it.

Tony leans over for the condom and the bottle of lube, sliding the condom over Steve’s length in a move that is somewhat intimate and makes Steve want to blush for some reason. Tony seems to have no such sensibilities because then he is squeezing lube into his palm and slicking up Steve’s cock like he’s part of a car engine.

Steve has to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning as Tony preps him. The air smells of sex and is making his head swim, or maybe that was just Tony. Tony, who’s hand was currently stroking down Steve’s cock in a ruse of spreading the lube onto him but really was simply to tease.

He did moan when Tony finally released him, a knot in his stomach that burned for him to continue.

“Shift forward.” Tony told him softly, hands on the edge of Steve’s chair to steady himself. Steve understood where this was going, immediately locking his hands onto Tony’s thighs as he slid down into the seat a bit more, bringing his knees up higher so Tony had a bit more room to manoeuvre himself into a better position.

He shuffled above Steve, knees wedged against the back of the seat in order to line Steve’s cock up with his entrance, holding himself so the tip grazed over his already slicked up hole.

Steve’s hands were still gripping onto his thighs, “Are you sure you’re ready for…” He started, not wanting Tony to be uncomfortable for round two.

Tony smile down at him, “Just be gentle with me,” He teased, “Go slow.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Steve told him softly, meaning every word and he was taken back by the weight they carried in the small space between them.

Tony leaned down to kiss him, short and sweet and then he was sinking back down onto Steve’s length. Tony was still tight; despite being stretched out and Steve could see him close his eyes to adjust the Steve’s cock filling him.

Steve went slow, taking over from Tony until he was as far into his heat as he could get from the angle he was at. He waited for Tony to make the next move, giving him time to adjust. Steve moved a hand up to cup his jaw, thumb stroking over his cheek gently.

Then Tony was moving, slowly and teasingly. He used his knees to move himself up and down on Steve’s lap, allowing Steve to thrust into him shallowly. Their pace was gently, almost sweet, like they had all the time in the world to just feel this.

Steve took that time to study Tony, to watch as Tony Stark worked himself apart on Steve’s cock only for Steve to put him back together. This position was intimate, Steve could feel every line of Tony’s body, he could see every flicker of pleasure in his eyes and hear every gasp when Steve thrust back into him.

He watched the pleasure mount in Tony’s eyes, stirring in the pit of his stomach and he watched how Tony’s body changed as it grew. His grip on the seat got firmer, Steve could feel the material give way behind him. Tony’s cock jerked when Steve hit a good spot inside of him and his legs shook with little tremors when his pleasure mounted.

The little gasps Tony gave grew in volume, at first hushed whispers between them turning to louder moans when he started rutting against Steve faster.

Steve wasn’t fairing much better, that coiled spring inside him was like a flutter of smoke. It was impossible to catch and hold onto until he focused in on Tony and then somehow that smoke had become a forest fire inside of his stomach just from the feeling of being inside Tony and having his hands on his body.

Tony whined, struggling to find an angle that allowed him to take Steve deeper, that would get Steve to hit that spot inside of him that would make him shudder. Their pleasure was mounting, and this slow teasing wasn’t going to be enough for either of them soon.

Steve planned to draw it out though, he’d never get enough of having Tony like this. He was riding himself on Steve’s cock, rising up before slowly sinking back down to grind against him before repeating the move. They were so close they were sharing the same air, every little noise Tony made was Steve’s to cherish.

Steve could tell the exact moment the teasing got too much for the mechanic. Tony shifted in his lap, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders until Steve felt Tony’s fingers burrow into the hair at the nape of his neck. He was pulling Steve closer, grinding harder against him desperately for something more.

Tony leaned down, lips grazing the shell of Steve’s ear before he started sucking on his earlobe. Steve could feel the liquid pleasure pooling into his gut, hands gripping Tony’s hips harder as he thrust up into him.

The angle was wrong, it was too tight for what they needed. Tony was still attacking his earlobe with little bites and the occasional kiss below it and Steve could feel his ragged breath against his skin, god he was so turned on.

Tony was still moving against him, grinding his hips every chance he got to heighten his friction and keep Steve inside him for a little while longer and Steve lost some of his own control because his own hips were stuttering upwards to increase his thrusts. The combination of Tony’s mouth against his earlobe and his cock filling him was too much.

“Tony,” Steve groaned, wishing he had the space to throw his head back and just lose himself in the feel of this but his pleasure was on the edge without a way over and he knew he was about five seconds away from taking Tony with a carnal passion until they both came.

Tony moaned against his neck, “I can’t…”

“Lean back against my knees.” Steve told him roughly.

Tony did as he suggested, moving his hands back to steady himself with his palms on Steve’s knees so he could lean his body backwards, stretching his thighs out along Steve’s legs. Steve’s cock was still buried inside him and the change in position immediately changed the angle, allowing Steve to slip deeper into Tony’s heat.

Tony bit his lip at the feeling, already rutting against Steve in search of his pleasure, “Oh yes.” He groaned out, eyes closing at the sensation.

Steve could only grunt in agreement, hands digging into Tony’s hips as all thoughts of teasing went out the window in favour of making Tony come hard and fucking him senseless.

He helped guide Tony’s body, slipping out of him to the tip before thrusting back in again. Tony gasped, hips stuttering as Steve’s cock found his prostate and Steve could feel him shuddering in anticipation of the pleasure.

Steve’s whole body was a live wire, poised to explode at any moment. The pleasure curling into his gut was tugging at him with every thrust and slap of skin against skin. He could see it in the black of his vision as he increased his pace, slamming into Tony and sliding back out again and again.

His pleasure was right on the edge, teasing him with every thrust that could be the one to send him falling into the abyss. He was sweaty and tense as he pumped his cock in and out of Tony’s hole, his pace maddening and erratic, fuelled by desire and need rather than teasing and exploring.

Steve needed Tony to come again, he wanted to feel him around his cock as he came just like he had last time. To see if he were right and there was nothing sweet than the way Tony Stark fell apart with Steve’s cock inside him.

His left hand moved from Tony’s hip, wrapping around Tony’s own neglected cock which was wet with precome and his own cum from his first orgasm.

Steve started pumping him in time with his thrusts, his own vision blacking out around the edges with his pleasure. He gritted his teeth, doubling his efforts to make Tony come one more time before he did.

Tony was writhing, back arching up as Steve’s fist worked his cock and his cock sunk back into his hole. There were so many sensations for Tony that he couldn’t decid which to focus on, moving his body like an instrument to Steve’s administrations.

Steve knew he was close; he was tense and moving constantly. It wasn’t about anything more than his release and there was nothing more beautiful than Tony Stark chasing his own passion. He wasn’t even making coherent sounds anymore, just gasps and pants of pleasure as Steve worked that second orgasm from his body.

When Tony did come, not even a few thrusts later, he stopped writhing enough to let himself fall into his orgasm and Steve could only watch as the pleasure shuddered through his body in one huge wave, cum coating Steve’s fist as he slowed down his strokes, allowing Tony to ride through the aftershocks.

He was still pulsating tightly around Steve’s cock, the warmth tightening and loosening around him as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from Tony that he could.

It was only when Tony was finished, his body heavier than before and a blissful grin on his face that Steve focused on his own needs. He took his hand away from Tony’s softening cock, so he didn’t become oversensitive and then with both hands back on Tony’s hips he doubled his efforts, thrusting like a drowning man at sea.

Tony’s hands moved from his knees, cold fingers digging into Steve’s shoulder blades, allowing Steve to use him in whatever way he needed to follow Tony into bliss. Steve leaned his head down, licking a strip up Tony’s chest as his own hips stuttered with the promise of release.

“Cum for me, Steve.” Tony crooned, hand back in Steve’s hair as he sucked a bruise over Tony’s pectoral, above his heart, “Let me feel you.”

Steve was a goner as soon as Tony opened his mouth, hips slamming back into his heat once more before Steve was falling over the edge.

His hips stuttered, whole body shaking as his orgasm hit him hard. He was coming as he breathed into Tony’s sweaty skin, filling up the condom with his cum and feeling Tony’s fingers play with his hair.

He gripped onto Tony for dear life, riding through the aftershocks of his release with a few more shallow thrusts before his body finally relaxed and Steve found he could breath again.

Tony was smiling at him when he found the strength to pull his head back, leaning back against the passenger seat with a smile of his own, “I’m pretty sure your team heard us just now.” Tony said with a breathless laugh.

“We’re the only ones here.” Steve replied, helping Tony move enough so he could slip out of his heat and dispose of the condom, “Bruce left for the clinic when I got back.”

Tony shuffled then, moving in Steve’s lap so his legs could stretch out into the driver’s seat and he was pressed against Steve’s side with an arm around his shoulders. Steve placed a sweaty kiss to Tony’s shoulder in response.

“I think I’m addicted to you.” Steve laughed, one hand gently massaging Tony’s thigh.

Those brown eyes stared at him coyly, “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s bad for me.”

“Because god forbid The Captain wants something for himself.” Tony replied gently, hand slipping back into Steve’s hair.

“Because I can’t give you anything,” Steve said, “I’m dangerous, I’m a target. I can’t give you a nice life with dates and a 9 to 5 job.”

Tony frowned, “Who says I’m asking you for anything? We have sex. We have really, _really_ good sex. We sometimes talk. Maybe we just don’t worry about the rest.”

“You want to be fuck buddies?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“I want whatever scenario lets me have more orgasms like that.”

“You know who I am, Tony. You know what I’m capable of. Is that really someone you want in your bed?” Steve asked him gently.

Tony tugged at the hair on the back of his neck, getting Steve to meet his gaze, “Yes, and clearly I’m not the only one who wants it.”

Steve paused for a moment, “Jesus, I’ve never met anyone that managed to have this effect on me.”

Tony kissed him then, deeply, slipping his tongue into Steve’s mouth with a teasing flick, “So does this mean I can booty call you now?”

“If I’m not working, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. No questions asked.” Steve promised.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”

“I’m counting on it.”

/

Steve was late.

He hated being late.

But after their activities in the garage, Steve had convinced Tony to take a shower before heading home because they were both a mess and he didn’t want Tony to leave like that thinking he was most sort of second rate hook up.

That led to them showering together and having sex again in the shower before Steve knew he needed to get back to reality because the others would be home soon, and he definitely knew having Tony there wouldn’t go down well. He walked Tony out and to his car like a proper gentleman and gave him one last heart stopping kiss before letting him go.

Not for good though, because Tony had told him he wanted this. He wanted Steve. Enough to want to continue sleeping with him anyway and for now Steve would take it.

He jogged up the path when he spotted Fury already there, looking out to the sea from the dock with a grim expression. Steve felt the dread curl in his stomach, when he had received Fury’s message about meeting, he knew it couldn’t have been good but the look on Fury’s face just confirmed his suspicions.

“Fury.” He called out, coming to stand next to the man and take up his own stance, eyes fixed on the waves rolling in with the night.

Fury nodded, not bothering with the pleasantries, “We’re in deep shit, Cap.”

“What happened?”

“We found another body. Same as before, cop on duty, ‘A’ carved into his chest.” Fury told him bitterly, “They’re calling in Special Branch. It’s their case now.”

Steve felt his stomach clench, without Fury’s help his team were in danger of getting arrested for this, “They can’t do that. You’re working leads. You’re still investigating.”

“They can and they have. Three killings make it a serial killer, Cap. Which makes it above my paygrade.” Fury sighed, “I’ll still be on the investigation, but I won’t be running it anymore. This will be the last time we meet.”

Steve shook his head, “It’s Rumlow. Brock Rumlow. He’s head of Hydra. We’ve got a name now. We know the bodies are being killed in the shipment yards and moved somewhere else. We just need to bring down Rumlow.”

“Steve, listen to me.” Fury turned to face him then, his one eye trained on his face, “Special Branch don’t care about who is responsible. They want all the gangs out of Brooklyn by Christmas. Hydra, Avengers, it all goes. It’s not about justice anymore, it’s extermination.”

“What’s their play?”

“I don’t know.” Fury sighed, “They aren’t due for a couple of days. Unit’s being headed by a man named Thaddeus Ross. We’ve crossed paths, he’s old school. Brutal and efficient, you can’t reason with him or buy him off. It’d be like offering up paper to stop a hurricane.”

Steve’s mind was reeling, running through as many ways this could play out as possible. This was bad. This was bigger than him and Rumlow. This was the start of a whole new Brooklyn.

But Brooklyn was still his city and he refused to let it go without a fight.

“If I help you get Rumlow, does the immunity for my team still count?” Steve asked.

Fury frowned, “Even if we could get evidence on Rumlow to make an arrest, Ross wouldn’t spare The Avengers.”

“Could you swing the immunity?”

“For your team, maybe. I could argue they were my informants on the case and therefore by law they would be protected via the immunity deal we’d previously agreed to. They would have to sign those deals though; I’d need to process the paperwork before Ross gets down here.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll talk to them tonight. You can come by the house and pick them up tomorrow.”

Fury sighed, hands in his pockets to protect him from the chill. Steve was running on pure adrenaline and fear and couldn’t feel it anymore, “I might be able to convince Ross to spare your team, Cap, but he won’t agree to sparing you. You’re the Captain, a mob boss, a killer. You created one of the biggest gangs in the city. Ross isn’t going to let an immunity deal stop him from making an example of you.”

Steve knew that. He’d guessed as much. If he hung Rumlow out to dry, then he’d have to hang himself as well. But the team, his family, would be safe. They’d be together and they’d have a chance at something after this mess was done.

“He’ll make my arrest public.” Steve agreed, “He’ll paint me out to be a monster to the streets of Brooklyn. He’ll be the saviour to my reign of terror.”

Fury nodded, “I’d imagine he’ll make sure your trial is a spectacle as well. He’ll make sure it’s drawn out and televised, everyone in the country will know your name and be out for your head when he’s done.”

“Then let’s give him something to tell them.” Steve replied, “Let me help you bring down Rumlow. You want him gone such as much as I do. I can stop him, Fury, for good. No more killings, no more selling weapons to children and pushing drugs through the high schoolers on the street. Give me 24 hours and I’ll end Hydra before Ross even gets to Brooklyn.”

“Steve, if you do that then it really is over. There is no chance at another way out, you’d be signing your own arrest warrant. Why would you give up everything to save your team and not yourself?”

Steve’s eyes drifted out to sea again, “I know who I am, and I know what I’ve become to survive. I live with that; I live with everything I’ve ever done to still be standing in front of you right now. The army, the gang, all of it. I’ll live with it, but they shouldn’t have to.”

“You really think you’re everything they say you are, don’t you?” Fury asked in disbelief.

Steve shrugged, “Just let me do this one thing. This last good thing for my family, for this city. Let me put an end to Hydra and then Ross can do what he wants with me. He can put me on a pyre in the middle of Brooklyn and read out my sins for the nation. I don’t care. I just care that they are safe.”

Fury sighed, “Just give me some time, okay. Let me find a way to spin this. Don’t act, don’t go after Hydra. If there is another way out, I’ll find it, but I need you to lay low. You and your team need to be squeaky clean for this to work.”

“If you can’t find anything then you need to promise you’ll let me do whatever I need to do to bring down Rumlow.” Steve replied.

“Give me until tomorrow evening, okay?” Fury pleaded, “I’ll come to get the immunity deals and if I still haven’t found anything then I won’t stand in your way.”

Steve nodded, “Why?”

“Because I believe you. I believe that you care about them more than yourself. I believe you want to make this city a better place, a safer one. I believe that Rumlow needs to be stopped and you’re probably the only person who can do it.” Fury said, “And I believe that you’re a better man than you think you are, Steve Rogers. You’re the kind of guy I’d want on my team.”

“I’m not much of a rule follower.” Steve told him.

Fury chuckled, “Oh, I see that. Twenty-four hours. You get those deals signed. I’ll find a way to make sure there’s one for you too.”

Steve wanted to thank him, he wanted to express how grateful he was to Fury in that moment for believing there was something in him worth saving because Steve wasn’t sure what it was. He didn’t though. The Captain didn’t do that, instead he watched as Fury walked back to his car, tucking his coat tighter around his frame.

He wanted to shout into the waves crashing against the docks in hope it would make him feel better. Or find Rumlow and put a bullet in his head. Or find his family and spend one more night together without the weight of this conversation crushing him from the inside out. Or turn up at Tony’s door and lose himself in his touch.

Steve wouldn’t do any of those things though because they weren’t practical. The King of Brooklyn’s days were numbered and if he really was about to lose everything, he was damn well going to make sure he did everything in his power to stop that from happening.

“Steve?” The voice of a familiar voice caused him to freeze, “What the hell is going on?”

He turned around to meet eyes clouded with betrayal and a firm stance. Steve swallowed thickly, words rushing to the surface before dying on his throat.

How long had he been standing there? Long enough to see him meet with Fury, that was for sure.

Steve struggled to form a sentence as he looked at the face of his best friend.

Bucky was still waiting for an answer.


	9. Chapter 9

It was already dark by the time Tony made it back to his apartment building, the winter nights pulling in the darkness early and dropping the temperature fast. It had to have been near freezing when Tony parked up and started the ascent to his condo on the top floor. The apartment block was always cold in the stairwell, just bricks and concrete that did nothing to protect from the cold weather, even the metal handrail was frigid against Tony’s palm as he climbed. 

  
Despite the weather, and the obvious turn that meant snow was definitely soon on the way Tony felt pleasantly warm. The encounter with Steve and their new found acceptance at whatever it was between them was still playing over in his mind and Tony still felt the warm of Steve’s shower on his skin. It all honesty, he wasn’t expecting to come away from Steve’s house with a mob boss on speed dial for his every sexual desire, but Tony wasn’t about to complain, especially when that mob boss looked like Steve. 

  
There was a part of him that knew it was foolish, that this thing between them wasn’t sustainable in any real sense. Rhodey would have him booked into therapy faster than he could blink, Rhodey was good like that. He always looked out for Tony, even when the mechanic wasn’t great at doing the job himself. 

  
He imagined what he’d say to Rhodey – not that he ever planned on telling his best friend any of this – if he were faced with that possibility. He imagined the event of sitting Rhodey down to try and explain what happened. Would he play it off, suggest that he was drunk and reckless, and Steve was as eager as he was? Or perhaps play the Howard card, Starks were brash and hot headed and honestly, how could he have said no? 

  
Or would he try and explain what it was that drew him to Steve like a forest fire despite knowing he’d only get burned? How could Tony put into words the way Steve made him feel. The way Steve saw him for who he was as well as everything he was trying to be. Rhodey was great, he was Tony’s biggest cheerleader for turning his life around, but Rhodey only ever focused on the potential of Tony Stark. On everything Tony could become if he tried. 

  
Steve saw everything Tony was, everything that made him into the person walking around today without even knowing the half of it. There was something in Steve, in the way he understood survival and the basic need to evolve in order to achieve it than spoke volumes to Tony. 

  
Isn’t that what he had done? When life with Howard started killing him slowly, degrading him and wearing him down. He had changed, he had evolved. He had survived because Tony understood if he didn’t than he wasn’t going to last the year. It would be the drink or maybe he would have started adding drugs to his mix. He might have partied too hard and foolishly and died before Howard could get just a little too angry to do the job himself. 

  
If anyone understood that need for change, it was Steve. The man who turned himself in a mob boss and made an entire city respect and fear him in order to ensure his own survival. Tony didn’t think for a second Steve always enjoyed being a mob boss, having the safety of other people on his shoulders but he carried that weight because it grounded him. It was why he needed to continue surviving, no matter the cost. 

  
Tony admired that. As awful as it was. He admired Steve, despite the killings and the gangs and the bloodshed. He admired a man who couldn’t back away from a fight because if he did then he wasn’t going to survive it. Tony had done the exact same thing, just without using his fists. He fought against Howard every chance he got, he left and took his genius with him, he built his own life and his own work and everyday he continue to do it was another day he was winning the fight he had been locked in with his father for the past few decades. 

  
This thing that drew him to Steve, it wasn’t just chemical or physical. It wasn’t because of Steve’s alluring glacier blue eyes or his chiselled abs that must have been sculpted from marble. It wasn’t because he knew how to work Tony’s body better than anyone else ever had. It was something a lot more fundamental than that. Steve saw him. For who he was, despite the ugliness of his own survival, despite the flaws that Tony had amounting up in spades. Steve recognised him as a survivor despite knowing nothing about his past. It was like there was something there in the glint of Tony’s eyes or under his skin that Steve instantly recognised and how in the world could he ever try to explain that to Rhodey without sounding crazy? 

  
He made it to his floor after his gruelling trudge up the stairs, hands digging into his pockets for his keys when he stopped short. His front door was open, just a few inches.

  
It was enough to raise alarm bells because Tony definitely remembered slamming it shut that morning in his haste to leave.

  
He approached cautiously, the condo was still dark so perhaps it was simply kids messing about or looking for cash. Tony was smart enough to know that making their way into an apartment building and heading straight to the top floor was a lot of effort for a couple of junkies looking to fund their next fix. 

  
This was something else. 

  
Tony pushed the door open slowly, eyes scanning through the dark to try and make out anything out of the ordinary in the shadows. His hand automatically reached inside, blindly searching until his palm felt the rough material of the umbrella he kept in the stand by the door. It was a plain black one, large and imposing. He hadn’t used it since Jarvis’ funeral when he was a teenager. There were probably still photos on the internet somewhere of him dressed all in black, face hidden by this very umbrella at the graveside to hide his tears. It wasn’t becoming of Stark men to cry. Howard was stone faced throughout the entire service, indifference and cold, much like every other day. 

  
Tony slipped the umbrella out of the stand, feeling the weight in his hand and being mildly comforted by the fact he now had a weapon of sorts. He flicked on the light switch that was just inside the door, flooding his apartment in light. 

  
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, no signs of anything being trashed or upturned. His dirty mugs still littering the side along with the letters he hadn’t got the chance to open yet. A carburettor still sat on the coffee table from where Tony had been tinkering with it the night before. 

  
He pushed the door open wider, stepping into the apartment. 

  
He barely got three feet in the door before a force hit him suddenly, knocking Tony to the floor in the direction of the kitchen island with a heavy thud. The force had him hitting his head on the floor as he fell before another body landed on top of him, Tony grunted, keeping hold of the umbrella on his way down. 

  
The man on top of him was heavy, in bulky padded jacket and combat trousers as he wrestled with Tony furiously. Tony gave at good as he got, thrashing his arms about until he managed to get the umbrella in his hand at the right angle, shoving it as hard as he could into the guy’s side. 

  
There was a shout of pain and Tony managed to use his shock to his advantage as he wrestled himself free of his attacker, umbrella tight in his grip. 

  
There was a steady ooze of liquid from his temple that he already knew was blood. He’d been hit by Howard enough to know the sensation well. His back was killing him, but his attacker was already getting to his feet as well, one hand clutching his side. 

  
Tony was already moving, feet heading for the door. He stopped short as another man climbed up the last couple of stairs, fixing Tony was a grin as he calmly walked towards him, Tony took a few steps backwards, umbrella raised in his fists. 

  
The guy behind him had regained his balance now and had his arms around Tony tightly, trapping him to his body. Tony kicked out at the guy advancing on him, kicking him in the gut hard enough to send him reeling back a few feet. Then his focus was on the guy holding him, umbrella trapped against his body. Tony lodged an elbow into his side. He wasn’t much of a fighter, but he was scrappy and fast. He threw his head back, hearing a crack from his attacker’s nose but his hold loosened, and Tony managed to slip free. 

  
The second guy was on him again, but Tony hit out with his umbrella managing to get in a few shots before his attacker managed to grab the end of the umbrella, twisting it from Tony’s grasp with an ease that unsettled Tony before he was bodily forcing Tony backwards, ribs hitting the side of the kitchen island with a painful thud. 

  
“Fucking knock him out.” Tony heard as one of the guys spat blood. 

  
He struggled in the hands of the other guy holding him, arms hitting out and managing to do little more than knock off the mugs littering the counter to the floor where they smashed into piece of broken china and a flood of letters before he felt it.

  
A blunt object striking the back of his head hard enough to make his eyes water and his ears ring. He heard a muffled voice behind him, felt a bag being shoved over his head and then he felt his legs give out under him.

  
The last thing he remembered was his hands being tied behind his back.

  
Then his vision went black. 

  
/

  
“Steve? What the hell is going on here?” 

  
Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Bucky, the hurt and confusion and anger flickering through his eyes. He’d always had expressive eyes, Steve could read them and automatically know what Bucky was thinking, it was a short hand that came in handy over in Afghanistan. Now, it served to mock him. 

  
Those eyes were piercing into Steve’s soul with the weight of betrayal like a hand crushing his windpipe.

  
“Bucky,” He started, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “It isn’t what it looks like…”

  
“Really? Because it looks like you’re working with the cops, Steve.” Bucky spat out, “So go head, tell me that isn’t what’s happening here.” 

  
Steve was helpless, something he hadn’t felt since his time in the war. He took a few steps towards Bucky, hoping that by physically closing the distance, he might also manage to close the rift between them. 

  
He had never been good with words. He was good with actions. But right now, Bucky needed words.

  
“I’m working with Fury to help bring down Hydra.” Steve told him, voice cold and hard. He had to keep his compose now, he had to make Bucky understand what was at stake. 

  
Bucky shook his head, “Fuck, tell me this isn’t happening, Punk. Tell me you haven’t lost your damn mind.”

  
Steve grabbed onto Bucky’s shoulders, making sure he was looking at him, “This is bigger than us, Buck. This is bad. The cop killings, Hydra, everything is conspiring against us.”

  
“Then you should have come to us. Your family.”

  
“I wanted to.” Steve’s voice wavered slightly, “I couldn’t.” 

  
“Yes, Steve, you could have.” Bucky bit back, “You didn’t because you knew we’d help you. You knew we’d do anything for you, to protect this family.” 

  
Steve let his hands slip from Bucky’s shoulders, “You’re right. I knew you’d have helped me, and I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to put you in any more danger than I already have.”

  
“What does that mean?”

  
“It’s all falling apart. The Avengers, Brooklyn. Everything. We’ll have a gang war on the streets by Christmas and after that? We’ll be in jail or we’ll be dead. That’s why I didn’t tell you, that’s what I’m protecting you from. That’s what I’ve been protecting you from since that first body was found. That’s my job. My responsibility.” Steve snapped, running a hand through his hair. 

  
Bucky shook his head, confusion on his face, “How bad is this thing with Hydra, Steve?” 

  
“The cops want an arrest for these murders. They need someone to answer for it. Fury knows it’s Hydra, he wants it to be Hydra, so I’ve been helping him shift the focus off us and onto them. To protect us. I thought it would be enough.” 

  
“And it wasn’t.” Bucky finished, hair whipping around his face as the wind picked up. 

  
Steve sighed, the emotion thick in his voice now, “They’re bringing in a specialised unit, head hunters. This isn’t about cop killings, not really, not anymore. They want to clean house. This guy, Ross, he’s coming for all of us. Avengers and Hydra. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  
Bucky nodded, “We’re all cut from the same cloth to them.”

  
“Right,” Steve explained, “I managed to work out a deal with Fury in return for my help. To keep you all safe, it’s a sacrifice. We’re all going to have to do things we might not like.”

  
“What the hell does that mean?” Bucky asked, “What did you do?”

  
Steve’s eyes darted around them at the increase of Bucky’s voice, “Not here. Call a family meeting, tonight after Sam gets off work. I need everyone there. Please Buck, I need you to trust me on this.”

  
“If you wanted me to trust you then you should have told me the plan from the beginning.” Bucky replied.

  
“I know.” Steve said, “Trust me anyway.” 

  
“Why?”

  
Steve sighed, “Hydra, it’s Rumlow. He’s in charge.”

  
That got Bucky’s attention, “Brock Rumlow? From Delta Force?”

  
“Yeah, I’ve only just found out. He doesn’t know who I am yet otherwise I’d be dead but if he figures it out…” 

  
Bucky knew, “Brooklyn will have a new King on the throne.” He sighed, “Fuck, what is that psycho doing in our city?” 

  
“I don’t know. Whatever he’s planning, it’s bigger than a few cop killings. This is a lot of effort to start a gang war.” Steve replied, “I had to protect you, Bucky. I had to try. Please understand that.”

  
“I understand that you’ve always been an idiot. I understand why you think the safety of this family is only on you.” Bucky told him, “I also understand that if Rumlow is coming for us then you’re the only person who might stand a chance against him. Not the cops, not a specialist unit. You. But you can’t do that without our help.” 

  
It was a start; it was a small win in a larger war. Steve wanted to cling on to it with both hands.

  
“Set up the meeting,” Steve sighed, “We’re not getting much sleep tonight.” 

  
/

  
When Tony woke up it was to a dull thudding pain in his left temple and a harshly lit room. He was tied to a metal chair with his hands and his feet bound to it with heavy rope. The blood on the side of his face had dried and crusted against his cheek, making his skin feel tight and scratchy. 

  
The pain in his temples flared when Tony blinked, trying to make out the room before him from the fuzz of his mind. He probably had a concussion. He’d been hit by Howard one too many times to know the signs of it well. 

  
When his eyes did focus up on the dab grey walls of his cell, he realised he wasn’t alone. Sitting in the corner by the heavy-duty metal steel door was a man in a chair of his own. He wasn’t tied down like Tony was, merely content to read his paper and steal glances at Tony after every paragraph or so.

  
What caught Tony’s caught was the scar that run from the edge of the man’s eyebrow down towards the bottom of his cheek, a red puckered angry line that didn’t look like he healed quite right. He might have been handsome once, with his dark hair and broad frame but that scar marring his face drew all attention to it. Tony wondered if he preferred it that way. 

  
Those eyes were on him again, hands already curling up the paper when he realised Tony was more lucid than before. 

  
“Ah, finally back with us, are you?” His voice was rough and indifferent and Tony found himself frowning, “I thought maybe Jenkins hit you too hard.”

  
“I can take a hit.” Tony grumbled, “And I don’t know what you want with me but trust me, you have the wrong guy.” 

  
His captor smirked, “Oh I don’t think so. I know exactly who you are, Mr Stark.” 

  
Tony tried not to let the worry show on his face. How much did this guy know? If he knew who Tony was then did he also know about his connection to Steve? The guy was obviously Hydra, the gang patch on his jacket gave that much away. Had they been following Steve? Maybe they saw Tony leave his place earlier, had seen the kiss Steve had given him before he got into his car. 

  
Stupid.

  
Were they trying to use Tony to lure Steve in? If so, that was the dumbest thing Tony had ever heard. Steve might have fucked him a few times but that didn’t mean he was about to risk his safety and the safety of his team to come after him. 

  
Luckily, Tony had grown up in these situations and was a dab hand at getting kidnapped. He could do this without Steve needing to get involved. Stark men were made of iron and Tony had always been a survivor. This prick didn’t frighten him in the slightest. 

  
“So, what’s the plan here?” Tony asked, testing the give on his restraints, “You keep me here, rough me up a bit and tell The Captain you have me? Because I have to say that isn’t going to be a great plan for you.” 

  
His captor was intrigued, Tony could tell by the way he leant forward with his elbows on his knees, “The Captain?” 

  
“He isn’t going to fall for this. He isn’t going to come for me. It was one time; something tells me he isn’t about to risk everything for some guy he happened to fuck after getting drunk in a bar.” Tony spat out; he needed this guy to believe that there was nothing to use against Steve. That is was a simple drunk mistake and Steve wouldn’t care for a moment if he decided to kill Tony. 

  
Tony was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of his captor rising to his feet, heavy boots thudding on the concrete as he made his way over to Tony, “We seem to be having some miscommunication here, Tony. My name’s Rumlow, this here is my little empire.”

  
Tony eyed the dull grey walls again, “You ever heard of a can of paint?”

  
Rumlow chuckled, “You think you’re here as bait for The Captain?”

  
Tony frowned, “Aren’t I?” 

  
“I want you to build me a Jericho,” Rumlow replied and Tony could feel the dread pooling in his gut, “I asked your father first, but he insisted he couldn’t make it work. I planned to kill him, but you can imagine my surprise when he told me you had figured out a way to create a fully functional missile.”

  
“It’s a weapon of massive destruction.” Tony bit out, “You’re a mob boss, what could you possibly need with one.”

  
Rumlow rubbed a hand over his scar, “Oh, I know what a weapon of mass destruction looks like. I saw them up close in Afghanistan, used a few myself. You know what I learned for my time overseas? Whoever controls the weapons has the power.” 

  
Tony swallowed thickly, “You want to sell them?”

  
“Once I get rid of The Captain and The Avengers, Brooklyn will be mine for the taking and I will turn it into the weapons capital of America. Think of the money, Stark, that’s what sold it for your father.”

  
“I’m not my father.” 

  
Rumlow sighed, “Think of the security then, working for Hydra as our weapons expert would grant you certain protection. A lot more work than a small-town garage I would wager.” 

  
“I’d rather die than build you anything.”

  
Tony felt the fist colliding with his cheek, heat and pain spreading through his cheek towards his eye socket. He bit his tongue to stop himself from calling out, cheek flaming as he narrowed his eyes at Rumlow. That would bruise. 

  
“Your father told me he could convince you to work with us,” Rumlow said, “This was a last resort, I had hoped you would share his ambition or his greed.” 

  
Howard was working with Hydra. That was why he had come to Tony’s place out of the blue. The contract he was talking about that brought in big money. He wanted Tony to fix the Jericho designs to sell it to Rumlow and Hydra. Howard was prepared to be an active part in the destruction of god knows how many lives for a paycheck and a bit of security. 

  
Tony fought the bile rising in his throat. 

  
He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t help Rumlow get shit. He could kill him right here in this dirty grey cell. 

  
“Well, you hoped wrong.” Tony told him.

  
“Perhaps but now I know you’re involved with The Captain I think there is another role you can play in our organisation.” Rumlow sneered. 

  
Tony continued to glare at him. What had he done? He had just amused that Rumlow taking him was about Steve. He hadn’t even considered that it was Howard at fault. He had basically given Rumlow a new alternative, a way to bring in The Captain. To kill Steve. 

  
Tony wasn’t about to let that happen either. Steve wasn’t dying because he had been an idiot. 

  
“Not involved.” Tony replied, “If you think he’s coming for me then you’re going to be disappointed. He doesn’t give a shit.”

  
Rumlow nodded, “Maybe. Although I’m eager to see whether you’ll change your mind, or The Captain will come for you first?”

  
“Neither.”

  
“You seem awfully sure.”

  
Tony lifted his chin higher, “I am. I won’t build you a damn thing. So, if you’re going to kill me, just do it already.” 

  
Rumlow ran a finger under Tony’s chin, “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll give you until then to change your mind on building the Jericho.”

  
Tony moved his head away and Rumlow let him go, heading towards the door. He picked up his paper on the way out, “Tomorrow, Mr Stark. Think on your choices wisely.” 

  
He tapped on the door and Tony watched it open from the other side. Rumlow was out of the door in seconds, it shut with a metallic clink after his departure. 

  
Tony was left with a bruising cheek and a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. He only had one thought, not about the Jericho or even about Steve. 

  
About how to survive. How to get out because he was right on two fronts. He wouldn’t be building Hydra so much as a toy rocket and Steve definitely wouldn’t be coming to rescue him. 

  
This one was on Tony and he was determined to survive. 

  
/

  
Bucky had managed to get everyone assembled in the kitchen when Steve walked in, Fury's envelope of immunity deals shoved under his arm. His family were looking at him, wide eyed and expectant and it was at that moment Steve realised they trusted him to guide them through this. To make sure they all made it out alive. A sea of faces waiting for instructions and a hope that only Steve could give them.

  
They weren't going to like what Steve had to say.

  
He threw the envelope down on the kitchen table, a dull thud echoing through the room. Bruce moved to reach for it as he was closest, tucked into a chair with a tired expression and a grim line set into his mouth. Clint was opposite him at the table, with Bucky seated in the middle. Bucky was cold and switched off, not that Steve could blame him. He only knew the half of it. He leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed, a silent display mocking Steve from where he stood at the head of the table. Natasha was perched on the counter, never one to use a chair when any other surface would do. Sam leaned up against the counter next to her, he was clearly confused but Steve saw past it to the worry in his eyes. Thor was leaning against the back door, an imposing figure of strength. He always seemed to gravitate towards the exit, like he needed to be the first to chase after whatever was coming to hurt this family.

  
Steve didn't know where to start, words swirling in his mind like water going down the drain. He was tense, shoulders ramrod straight and hair in disarray from the walk back to the house, and everyone else in the room could feel it.

  
"You aren't going to like this," Steve started, hands in his pockets so they couldn't see him shaking, "I need you to listen before you interrupt. It's important you understand the full threat we're facing here before you weigh in."

  
There were nods around the room, a silent acceptance that what Steve was about to tell them wasn't good. Just like that, those expectant and hopeful faces turned into dread and apprehension. All except Bucky of course, his best friend was looking at him with a fixed gaze and a plea in his eyes for Steve to fix this and get to the punchline of a bad joke already.

  
Once he started talking, Steve couldn't stop. He poured everything he knew into what felt like hours but must have been minutes. He told them about Fury and how he helped him get Hydra for the cop killings. He told them about Rumlow, and Hydra's take over. He told them about how dire the situation was, about how he couldn't see a way out of this one. He told them about Ross and his eventual manhunt. He explained the bargain he struck with Fury; the immunity deals that currently rested in Bruce's hands as he tried to read through them. Steve told them everything and when he was done he didn't really any better.

  
He wasn't really expecting to.

  
Everyone's eyes were on him, a mix of betrayal and fear and sadness and it all felt like failure. Steve had failed them. He had failed them by lying to protect them and he had failed them by not offering anything better.

  
Natasha was the first to speak, her voice carefully constructed and void of the emotion the sparkled in her eyes, "You want us to go for immunity?" 

  
Steve turned to look her at, this young woman whom once had been a fifteen-year-old kid on the wrong side of starving, "I can't make you sign them. I won't force you, it's your decision."

  
"Good, so let's rip them up." Clint cut in, snatching the papers from Bruce's grip.

  
"But I'm encouraging you to sign them." Steve's statement had Clint freezing, papers tightly in his fist.

  
"You can't be serious." Clint replied.

  
Steve sighed, "I am. Everything is up against us right now. Even if we could somehow take down Rumlow and get him on killing these cops... we can't go up against Ross and win. He does this for sport, you think he'll spare any of you? He's coming and he is coming for all of us. I can't protect you from that. If I could, I'd slit Ross' throat myself but all that would do is cause someone else to come after us."

  
Bruce nodded, "You think immunity is the only way we stay out of jail."

  
"But we won't stay together." Bucky cut in.

  
"No, chances are they'd split everyone up. Less of a threat that way but we can work around that. Give it some time, wait for the dust to settle and in a year or two come back together in a new city." Steve replied.

  
Natasha tilted her head, "You wouldn't leave Brooklyn without a fight, Steve. These immunity deals, if we sign then are you signing too?"

  
Steve ran a hand through his hair, "Immunity is on the table for you. Not for me. I'm the mob boss, I don't get a pardon for my sins."

  
"Fuck." Sam muttered under his breath.

  
"Then I'm not signing." Natasha replied.

  
"Nat, listen to me. This is your best chance. I can take the fall for this. I can protect you that way. Please, let me. Fury is working on trying to get me immunity and maybe he will but if he doesn't then I'm going to jail either way. Don't ask me to watch as they throw you all in a cell next to me." Steve pleaded with her, eyes burning.

  
"At least we'd be together." Bucky spat out, "A family."

  
"In cages." Steve shot back, "Bruce and Sam might get out on good behaviour. Maybe Clint could make a deal but you and me? The things we've done? What about Nat? Thor? You think they aren't going to throw the book at us?"

  
Thor pushed off from the doorframe, "I won't sign the papers. If they want to cage me then they can. I won't let them strip me of everything I am and tell me to live a lie."

  
"Thor, you’re not listening..."

  
"No, you're not." Natasha cut in, "You keep telling us that all you want is to protect us. You gave us a home and a family, Steve. You found us, every single one of us and you chose us to be a part of this empire you wanted to build. Why can't you believe that we chose you too? That we'd want to protect you just as much as you want to protect us?"

  
Steve hadn't stopped to think about it from that angle.

  
Bucky stood up, grabbing the papers from Clint's hands and screwing one up into a ball before throwing it over his shoulder, "I'm with you ‘til the end of the line. If it's jail, then we're making sure we take Hydra with us."

  
"We're talking about war, Buck. A turf war, a cop war." Steve replied.

  
"You always told me war wasn't about winning or losing. It was about power. Who has it and who wants it." Sam responded with a shrug, "I'll go into another warzone with you if that's what it takes to make sure Rumlow never gets it."

  
Natasha nodded, "You have the power here, Rumlow wants it. He has to go through you to get it, Steve. You really going to give it up without a fight." 

  
Steve knew what they were doing. They were goading him, challenging him, baiting him. It wasn't going to work; he wasn't playing this game with them.

  
"I'd die for you, Captain." Thor grinned, "But I'd rather join you in killing everyone else."

  
"I'm in." Clint replied.

  
Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose, "I'll be on standby for a patch up. We don't want you winning the war with Hydra just to bleed out because you can't make a stitch." 

  
Steve shook his head, "This isn't a vote."

  
"Sort of looks like it is." Natasha smirked.

  
"You don't understand what's at stake here. We might not all make it out. Bruce and Sam at least should sign the papers, you’re lower level, no record, they might not even bother reassigning you."

  
Sam shook his head, "Not without you."

  
Bucky nodded, "You're a stubborn ass but you’re our stubborn ass and we're not letting you do this alone."

  
Steve smiled then, because it was so Bucky, it was so them. He had forgotten how much he missed that.

  
"If Fury comes back with a deal for you as well then you can make a case for us signing them but until then there’s not a chance we are leaving you to rot." Natasha told him. 

  
Steve nodded, "Okay. I can't make you sign them. But this is a onetime thing, once they're gone then they're gone."

  
"So, let's get to work." Bucky pressed with a grin.

  
God, Steve loved his family. He really did. He nodded once, a resolve crumbling and then he left. He didn't trust his voice to speak the words he wanted to say. The gratitude he wanted to express. 

  
Natasha caught up with him on the stairs, barrelling into him with her arms tight around his waist.

  
Steve hung there unsure what to do with the sudden display of affection, "What's this for?" He said.

  
Natasha shrugged into him, "You need it. Hug me back, Rogers."

  
Steve did as instructed, arms coming up around her as he sank into her, "This is going to be the fight of our lives."

  
"And you really think we'd win it any other way but together?" She questioned, giving him one last squeeze before releasing him, "You're so loved, Steve. I wish you believed you deserved it."

  
Steve gave her a small smile, "I'm trying."

  
She nodded, "We're going on a beer run to Sam's and then we're brainstorming. I'd say you have a couple of hours before we need your head in the game."

  
"And what are you suggesting I do for a few hours?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

  
Nat feigned ignorance, "I have no idea. Talk a walk, clear your head? I'm sure you'll think of something." 

  
Steve knew what she was getting at with the subtle push out the door. She wanted him to go and destress, to come back to them with a clear head and a plan they could work with.

  
She was pushing him towards Tony. Steve didn't even want to know how she figured him out or about the fact she was giving him her blessing to continue whatever they had going on. Her eyes were unmistakable though. She knew more than the rest of them.

  
He nodded as she walked back to the kitchen to round up "her boys" and Steve was shrugging into his own jacket before he could talk himself out of it. 

  
Maybe seeing Tony was exactly what he needed right now.

  
That thought scared him more than he felt comfortable with.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he arrived at Tony’s condo, his mind worrying over whether he should have called first? Tony might have been out or not wanting the company tonight. He had halfway convinced himself that perhaps turning on his heel and heading to Sam’s with everyone else would be a smarter plan, Steve might have even believed it if it wasn’t for the niggle of excitement in his gut that wanted to see Tony. 

  
It was late when he finally made it up to Tony’s door, far too late for this to be considered a social visit. It was nearly morning and Steve almost felt guilty about just turning up out of the blue. Perhaps he should have at least called Tony first before showing up like a lost puppy at his door. 

  
Steve was instantly pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed Tony’s door wide open, immediately his body went stiff and he was reaching for the gun he kept tucked in the waistband of his jeans. 

  
It was dark inside the apartment, dark enough to be unsettling as to why the door would have been left open. Steve couldn’t stop the fear that invaded his senses and pooled into his chest. Something was off. 

  
He approached slowly; gun raised as he clicked the safety off. He needed to be ready just in case. 

  
“Tony!” He called out into the dark of the apartment, hitting the light switch as he went.

  
As soon as light flooded the room, Steve knew he wouldn’t find Tony anywhere. 

  
The place was carnage, broken china and scattered letters on the floor, black marks scuffing up the wood of the entryway. There had been a struggle, that much was clear. 

  
A small pool of blood caught Steve’s attention and he made his way over to it, crouching down to take a closer look. It wasn’t enough to be alarming, but it was enough for Steve to know whatever struggle had taken place hadn’t ended well. 

  
The worry blooming in his chest gave way to anger, raging through his veins like an inferno. Someone had hurt Tony; someone had taken him from his home. Steve knew this had to be related to him, a small-town mechanic – no matter how brilliant – wasn’t the type to have many enemies. Steve was. Steve had plenty of them, and right at the top of that list was Hydra.

  
How did they know about Tony? 

  
They couldn’t be following him otherwise Rumlow would have figured out who he was by now and he would have made his move. 

  
Steve grazed his fingers over the pool of blood, cold but still wet which meant they couldn’t have grabbed Tony too long ago. The blood wasn’t dried and sticky on the floor yet. He pushed away thoughts of Tony bleeding from his mind, he needed to think. 

  
He was good at this. In the army, spotting the little details was a skill of his. An unusual settlement of dirt that covered up an IUD. A shadow that didn’t fit in with the surroundings that gave away the position of a sniper. Steve could spot things like that from a mile away, it was the only way to keep his team safe. That was before the mission that changed everything, that was before he was left for dead with nothing but miles and miles of desert in every direction. That skill had belonged to Steve Rogers, The Captain preferred the ‘shoot and see who flinches’ approach. 

  
There was an umbrella abandoned near the kitchen island, Tony must have grabbed it. Hydra wouldn’t have needed it. Steve wondered whether Tony was brave or stupid for thinking an umbrella would hold up against guys with guns. The struggle had moved towards the kitchen, the broken china and scattered letters told Steve that Tony had been cornered there and he had fought. It was probably the reason for the blood. 

  
Tony was a fighter. That was good. 

  
Steve was sliding his phone out of his pocket before he knew he was doing it, dialling Bucky’s number and holding the phone to his ear. He stood as it rang, wiping Tony’s blood onto the side of his jeans. 

  
“Steve?” Bucky’s voice asked through the phone, he was concerned and confused as to why Steve was calling him so soon after their meeting. 

  
Steve was in no mood, “Grab Thor, head to the docks. I want eyes on Hydra’s base of operations. You call me the second you see Rumlow, okay?” 

  
“I thought we were coming up with a plan?” Bucky asked gently. 

  
Steve’s eyes darted around Tony’s condo, “They have Tony.”

  
“The mechanic?” 

  
“Bucky, I need this done. They took him because of me so you get Thor and you get down to the fucking docks. I need to know Tony is there before I go in and get my hands dirty. If he isn’t and Rumlow finds out I’m coming, then he’ll kill him.” 

  
Bucky was still processing, “You told me it was a one-time thing.”

  
“You want to do this now?” Steve demanded, “Really?”

  
“We agreed…”

  
Steve cut him off, “I know. I tried, okay? Just help me get him back, Buck.” 

  
Bucky sighed through the phone, “You’re really gone for this one, aren’t you?” 

  
“Get to the docks. Report back when you have something for me.” Steve’s change of subject spoke volumes, “Get everyone else back to the house. I’m heading home now.” 

  
“Whatever you need, Punk.” 

  
The line went dead and Steve was almost thankful Bucky had let the subject drop. Steve wasn’t sure he could deal with the breadth of his feelings for Tony in his own mind, let alone telling Bucky about them. Steve worked best when he was able to push those thoughts aside and get on with the task at hand. 

  
Something told him he wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer. 

  
He needed to get Tony back and he needed to make Hydra pay for thinking they could take him and it wouldn’t cost them their fucking heads. 

  
/

  
Tony really hated being kidnapped. 

  
The uncomfortable chair, the depressing cell, the egos. He hated the smell of his own sweat and blood, longing for a shower and some food because when was the last time he ate? 

  
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, there was no way to mark time in this place. No window to see night turn into morning or clock that ticked the hours down for him. It had been hours; he knew that much from the ache in his back at the metal chair that did nothing to support him comfortably. 

  
This was part of the process he knew, the waiting. It was a psychological technique to break him down. The endless hours of silence with nothing to do but think about how horrible his situation was and how much he wanted to be free. Then Rumlow would come back in with food or a smile and offer him that freedom in exchange for the Jericho, thinking Tony would jump at the chance at that point. 

  
He wouldn’t. 

  
When he was younger and Howard was in one of his drunken flashes of anger, his mother would hide him in the small cupboard on the second floor of their house. It was used to store clean sheets and towels and only the maids ever really acknowledged its existence. Howard certainly didn’t. So, when Tony was eight or nine years old and his mother was still alive, she’d rush him into the cupboard. Howard’s voice would be shouting for her in some other part of the house as she pushed Tony inside and told him to lock the door. He wasn’t to come out until Jarvis gave the special three taps on the wood to let Tony know it was safe. 

  
He’d spent hours in that little cupboard, no light, no window. He’d place his back against the wall and his feet against the door like through sheer force he could stop Howard from breaking it down if he ever found him. He’d balance equations in his head or plan new designs to copy into his notebook as he tried to tune out the muffled shouting and crying from somewhere in the house. 

  
Tony was used to dark spaces and defeating silence. He was used to uncomfortable situations and how to turn his fear into something useful. 

  
That was why Rumlow’s tactics wouldn’t work on him. 

  
He hadn’t spent hours thinking about how horrible getting kidnapped was, he had spent those hours figuring out the composition of the door. At least 5-inch-thick steel. The lock was electrical though and could easily be fried with the right equipment, triggering the mechanism and unbolting the door. 

  
He needed a weapon of sorts, two guards outside the door and Tony wasn’t so sure he’d be able to take them on with his bare hands. 

  
When the door did finally open, it wasn’t food that Rumlow brought with him but a large trolley that he wheeled in front of him and parked against the wall. It almost looked like a metal gurney and if it wasn’t for the sheet draped over it oddly, as it rested over the objects already on the trolley, Tony might have worried Rumlow planned to wheel him out in a body bag. 

  
Rumlow wasn’t smiling today, he grunted as he whipped off the sheet and Tony could make out the sheets of metal, some tools and other boxes on the trolley. 

  
“To build the Jericho.” Rumlow explained, “Everything you need according to your father’s designs. If you need anything else, we can get it.” 

  
So, that was it. Rumlow was cocky and already assumed Tony would be helping him. 

  
Tony squinted, “I told you, I’m not building you anything.” 

  
Rumlow smirked then, cold and smug and Tony hated it, “Yes, you are. Then when you’re done with the missile, you’re going to tell me everything you know about The Captain. His team, who he is.”

  
“I don’t know who he is.” Tony insisted and it was partly true. Steve had never offered him a last name and a backstory. How much did Tony really know about the man other than he was a mob boss, he had killed people and he was a good fuck? 

  
“I’m sure you’ll remember something useful while you work.” Rumlow replied, “If not, I can always persuade you.” 

  
Tony didn’t want to know what that meant but he figured it involved pain, “I’m not helping you.”

  
“Then I’ll have to pay your friends a little visit.” Rumlow said, “The hardworking cop. Rhodes, right? We’re watching him, I had considered making him the next murdered cop. Fury would have to make an arrest for his own partner surely?” 

  
Tony shook his head, “Don’t fucking touch him.”

  
“No?” Rumlow mused, “How about little Peter? Accidents can happen when you walk home through Brooklyn at night. He’s a smart kid though, It’d be a shame to see his brains coating the pavement.”

  
“He’s a fucking kid!”

  
“That’s why I don’t want to do it.” Rumlow agreed, “The choice is yours, Tony. You build the missile without the motivation; prove to be a good little worker and I promise I won’t have to kill everyone you love to force you to do it.” 

  
Tony could feel the bile rising in his throat, Rumlow didn’t even look fazed by the threats. It was another day at the office for him, just like it would be for Steve. For a split second, Tony wished Steve was coming for him. He wished he had the protection of a man like that when there was shit like Rumlow roaming the streets. 

  
But he didn’t. He was on his own. 

  
“You don’t hurt them.” Tony spat out, “I’ll build your missile, and you leave them both alone. That’s the deal.” 

  
Rumlow smiled, “See, I told you I can be reasonable. Missile first, then I want everything you know about The Captain. You’ll be back with your friends in no time, Mr Stark.” 

  
Tony knew that was a lie. Once Rumlow had seen what he could do, he’d want to keep him around. Tony was a valuable asset, Rumlow wouldn’t be able to give that up. 

  
“I need a few more things.” 

  
It was reckless, asking for a few things that weren’t in his father’s original designs, but Tony knew just from looking at him that Rumlow wasn’t a man of intelligence, he was a man of action. He was a battering ram. Tony could use that to his advantage. 

  
“I’ll have someone get what you need.” 

  
Tony nodded, “Copper wire, three inches thick. About a metre. A coffee, black, no sugar and some palladium. 8mg.” 

  
Rumlow frowned, “Palladium?”

  
“It’s a stabiliser. Part of the solution Howard couldn’t figure out, a conductor for the Jericho core. It’s not easy to find but Howard will be able to get some.” 

  
“I’ll make sure you have it.” Rumlow replied. 

  
The victory was clear in his face, he had gathered intel on Tony’s friends and identified them as his weakness. It was a smart move; he’d taken the time to learn about Tony’s daily habits rather than rely on Howard as a source of information. Rumlow wasn’t taking chances on this one. He wanted Brooklyn. He’d do anything to get it from Steve. 

  
Even trust Tony when he said the palladium was a stabiliser. It wasn’t, it was a highly corrosive element that Howard added into all the missiles of the Freedom Line. It was a chemical stimulant and produced enough energy within the missile to allow it to cause real damage. 

  
It was also a key component in the plans for the arc reactor technology that Howard had been trying and failing to produce since Tony was about thirteen. Howard wouldn’t even think twice about why Tony would be asking for that amount of palladium instead of the standard 0.2mg, he’d assume Rumlow wanted an even more powerful missile. 

  
Tony wouldn’t be building him a missile though. Tony would be building his means of freedom. The arc reactor technology, something Howard had dismissed as being a waste of time was a problem that Tony had solved one night with a piece of chalk and a pavement outside MIT with Rhodey after they had come back from a party drunk. Rhodey was rambling about applying for the police force and Tony had managed to come up with a way to direct the raw energy created through the palladium into a sort of funnel that allowed him to power the arc reactor technology and focus it down on a smaller scale. 

  
Tony wasn’t building Rumlow anything, he was creating a mini arc reactor that fit into the centre of his palm and would produce enough energy to disable the locking system on the door and let him walk out of there. 

  
Then he was going directly to Steve, to make sure he knew who Rumlow was and why he was such a threat. Tony would happily watch while Steve killed him because Rumlow had dared to come after Rhodey and Peter. He threated Tony’s family, and suddenly he understood Steve a little better. The urge to protect the people he loved, rising in the pit of his chest and overwhelming him until it was the all thing he could focus on. 

  
Rumlow had messed with the wrong mechanic, of that Tony was certain. 

  
When he was finished, Rumlow would be certain of that too. 

  
/

  
By the time Steve made it back home his anger had been festering like a furnace, he could feel it in his bones. They took Tony. Hydra dared to use him as a chess piece in this game of war between them. Steve felt like his veins were burning, clenching and unclenching his jaw every time he thought about Tony in pain, being hurt, because of him. 

  
His family had gathered in the living room this time, their cases of beer left untouched on the coffee table. All eyes were on him when he walked into the room, the sound of Steve slamming the door so hard it rattled the hinges was enough to tell them The Captain wouldn’t be reasoned with tonight. 

  
Bucky and Thor were absent from the group and Steve tried to allow himself a small moment of relief that they were already in place at the docks, watching the shipment yard for any sign of Tony or Rumlow. As soon as Steve knew for sure that was where Tony was being kept, he could act. 

  
Worried eyes of confusion tracked his movements as Steve paced in front of them. They were all crowded into the small space, taking up the couch and the armrests like a united front. In any other situation Steve could believe they had all gathered for a movie night or a night to simply enjoy each other’s company.

  
It was the shift in the air that told the true story. 

  
Steve couldn’t stop moving, pacing back and forth simply to have something to do. He was never good at being still, even in the army. He often challenged orders to stay put if there were lives in danger. Now, Tony’s life was in danger and Steve found those old habits return to him as easily as breathing. 

  
Once he walked the length of downtown Brooklyn in the same frantic need to keep moving. It helped him think, the motion, the mindless act of putting one foot in front of the other. The direction didn’t matter, just as long as he was moving. 

  
Now, with all those eyes on him as he trailed a path from one end of the living room to the other Steve found himself feeling more like a caged animal backed into a corner. 

  
“Steve, what’s happening?” Sam asked, voice soft and cautious. 

  
Steve kept pacing, mind turning. How could Hydra know about Tony? Had they been following him? What was the plan now they had him? Steve hadn’t received any demands and he couldn’t help but think Hydra would want to rub this in his face. 

  
“Captain?” Clint asked.

  
Steve kept his pace, running a hand through his hair. Were they trying to force Steve’s hand? Did they want him to charge in so they could say he started the turf war first and they were just reacting? Maybe Tony wasn’t even there… Maybe he was…

  
No.

  
He wasn’t. They went to all that effort to kidnap him, not kill him so they needed him for something. They wanted him for something. An air of drama to lure Steve in? A trap? They couldn’t know how much Tony meant to him, Steve himself was barely accepting that fact. 

  
“Rogers!” Natasha called out, firm and level. 

  
He snapped out of his pacing, the echo of his last name pulling him back into the room like he was a young trainee in the army again. He couldn’t help how his body instantly stilled, standing up a little straighter. He fought the urge to salute. 

  
“Hydra took Tony.” He replied. 

  
The sea of eyes around him were still confused, all except Natasha. Steve saw her eyes soften for a fraction of a second. She understood. 

  
“Details?” She asked.

  
Steve nodded, “Taken from his home recently. There was blood but not much. Door wide open. No demands or note. I have Thor and Bucky down at the shipment yard looking for signs of him.” 

  
“Okay, well we know he’s alive. Rumlow would have left his body for you to find if he wasn’t. The real question is how did they know to take him?” Natasha questioned. Her mind always managed to keep up with Steve’s, even on his best day. 

  
Sam cut in, brows furrowed, “Back up, who’s Tony?”

  
“The mechanic?” Bruce asked cautiously. 

  
Steve sighed, “I’m seeing him.” 

  
He was met with silence rather than the uproar he was expecting, and he wasn’t sure that was any better. Where were the shouts of him losing his mind? The yells that he was an idiot and Tony was a civilian?

  
“He wouldn’t happen to be good-looking, sassy and dark haired?” Sam asked with a hint of teasing, “The guy from my bar?” 

  
Steve shook his head, “We don’t have time for this. We’re not at a high school sleepover.” 

  
Sam continued anyway, “Bucky told me it was a one-time thing.” 

  
“It was.” Steve insisted, “Then it wasn’t.” 

  
“Good for you, Cap.” Bruce smiled. 

  
Steve wanted to frown. Good for him? Tony had been taken and they were congratulating him on a new relationship like it was normal? 

  
“We need to find him.” Steve gritted out, trying not to let the anger bleed through his tone. On any other day, the thought of his family accepting his relationship with Tony would have been a moment to celebrate but right now all he could focus on was the fact that Tony wasn’t here. 

  
Natasha nodded, “We will.”

  
“Soon, Nat. Hydra will torture him to get information.” Steve could feel the bile in his throat like a lump of acid. 

  
Natasha stood, “Well, they messed with the wrong mechanic because this one is under our protection.”

  
Steve wanted to smile, really, he tried but he barely managed a twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

  
“When do we officially get to meet him?” Sam asked, like a kid in a candy store. 

  
Steve shook his head gently, “When we get him back.” 

  
Clint opened his mouth to say something, Steve wasn’t sure if it was meant to be teasing or part of a battle strategy. Either way, the sound of three sharp knocks on the front door cut him off in his tracks. 

  
Everyone fell silent and Steve had his gun in his hand before anyone could blink. Could this be the demands he was waiting for? 

  
Steve raised a hand, motioning for everyone else to stay put in the living room whilst he moved into the hallway towards the front door. He clicked off the safety on his weapon, one hand reaching for the handle. He could shoot before their visitor had time to draw breath if he had too. He wasn’t in the mood to play games tonight. 

  
He whipped the door open quickly, barrel of the gun level with a solid chest and a familiar looking jacket. 

  
“What? You’re going to shoot me on your own doorstep now?” Fury demanded, raising his hands in mock surrender. 

  
Steve frowned, “We’re a little jumpy tonight. Why are you here?” 

  
“You asked me to come?” Fury replied, “Immunity paperwork?” 

  
Steve remembered. When he met Fury at the docks, he had told him to swing by the house to collect the paperwork he promised to have signed by tonight. The paperwork that still sat on the kitchen table untouched. 

  
He lowered his gun, tucking it back into his jeans as he ushered Fury inside the house, “It’s been a long night.” 

  
Fury eyed him closely, “I see that. What’s with the firepower?”

  
“Hydra made their move.” Steve replied bitterly, “I’m dealing with it.”

  
“You can’t.” Fury replied, voice firm.

  
Steve frowned, “Detective, I don’t think you realise how this works. I help you when it benefits me, you don’t get to give me orders. No one does anymore.”

  
“If you attack Hydra then you forfeit immunity.” Fury replied, “I think I have a way to secure it for you as well as the rest of the team.” 

  
“Keep talking.”

  
Fury huffed, “We can’t give you a deal like the others. You’re big league. Ross will rip up the paperwork and play the innocent but if we created a false trail that suggests you’ve been an informant of mine for a long time. Years. Then Ross wouldn’t be able to make that disappear. I’ll go on record and say it’s true and in return you give me everything you have on Hydra so we can bring them down the right way.” 

  
Steve wanted to laugh, “The right way? You think it’s the right way because you wear a badge and answer to the law? Hydra isn’t playing by your rules, Fury, they’re playing by mine. You think you’ll beat them if you stay on the neat side of things and have a code you can live by? Only way to win against them is to get your hands bloody.” 

  
“Then you’ll go to jail, Steve. You’ll rot in a cell and never see your family again. Is Rumlow really worth that?”

  
No, he wasn’t. But he had Tony. 

  
“He took one of ours.” Steve replied, “I need to go after him.” 

  
“Let me handle it.” Fury insisted, “Your guy got a name?” 

  
Steve sighed, “Tony Stark.”

  
“I didn’t know you had a Stark on your payroll.” Fury said. 

  
“I don’t.” Steve gritted his teeth, “But he’s with me and I’m not leaving him in the hands of Hydra to save my own ass.” 

  
Fury didn’t answer, searching in Steve’s eyes for something. Steve wasn’t sure what, but the way Fury was looking at him was making him uncomfortable. 

  
“Detective.” Natasha’s voice broke their deadlock, bubbly and nice. An act. She came to a stop by Steve’s side, envelope of immunity deals under her arm, “Sorry, I had to round these up.” 

  
She offered the envelope to him with a false smile and a tilt of her head. Steve knew if she wanted, Fury would be dead in seconds. 

  
He took the papers, tucking them into his jacket, “Let me deal with Stark. I’ll get my team on it. You stay clean and maybe we all walk away from this.” 

  
“They aren’t signed.” Natasha told him, nodding towards the papers. 

  
Fury frowned, “You people want to go to jail?” 

  
“We want to stay together. We’re not signing them without Steve.” 

  
“Well then, maybe you can talk some sense into him. I can get him immunity, but you all need to stay above board on this. Let us deal with Hydra. When Ross gets here, there can’t be any doubt that you’re running your own agenda.” Fury explained.

  
Steve put his hands on his hips, making himself larger and more imposing. The scowl on his face spoke volumes, “Tony.”

  
“I’ll get him.” Fury promised, “I don’t want civilians caught in the crossfire so I’m not even going to ask why he got caught up in this. Stay clean. Stay low. I’ll process the paperwork.”

  
“It’s blank.” Steve repeated. 

  
Fury smiled, “For now. I’m sure I can come up with a few signatures on these for my report. You get immunity. They get immunity. I get Hydra off the streets. Everyone wins. I just need you to do your part and stay out of it.” 

  
Everyone wins but Tony, Steve thought bitterly. 

  
Natasha must have sensed Steve’s change in demeanour because she was ushering Fury to the door shortly after as Steve stood rigid. Fury seemed to sense he was pushing his luck and let her lead him out. Natasha waited until she had shut the door on the detective before turning back to Steve. 

  
“Immunity. The whole family. A chance at being together. You said it yourself, give it a year or two in protective custody and we cut loose to find each other again. It could work. New start. New city.” Natasha mused, “Everything you said you wanted for us two nights ago.” 

  
Steve sighed, “I know.”

  
The defeat in his eyes must have given him away because Natasha closed the gap between them with a soft smile, “You aren’t going to leave this one to Fury, are you?” 

  
“You can still get immunity without me. All of you. Fury will process the paperwork and you stay out of whatever happens next. You’ll be together, Nat.” Steve said. 

  
She shook her head, “We’ll be without you.” 

  
“I can’t let him die because of me.” Steve insisted, “This whole mess is my fault. I should have listened to Bucky. I should have walked away and let Tony go.” 

  
“Why didn’t you?” 

  
Steve closed his eyes, “Because I didn’t want to.” He admitted, “Because I like him, more than I should. More than I have any right to allow myself.” 

  
Natasha nodded, “What are you going to do?” 

  
“They took Tony. I’m going to burn their goddamn empire to the ground.” 


	11. Chapter 11

It takes Tony every minute of constant working to pull it off, he hasn't slept and no one has brought him food. He isn't even sure how long he's been in this room, a day at least, maybe more. There are no windows and nothing to mark the passage of time so he doesn't focus on it. Instead, he works. Constantly. Obsessively. 

  
These aren't his usual conditions, he is acutely aware of the fact he isn't in his condo or at the garage and if he needs something then he has to bang on the door of his cell and wait for someone to open up so he can ask for what he needs. It's annoying and it slows the process right down but Tony pushes on regardless.

  
Rumlow seems to believe that Tony is building his Jericho, or at least, he has little knowledge of mechanics and weapons manufacturing to assume any different. Using Peter and Rhodey to get to him had been smart, if this wasn't a common occurrence in Tony's life at this point he might have even fallen for it. But he knew how to be a hostage, he knew when to be defiant and when to play into the part Rumlow had set up for him to take.

  
The arc reactor tech was old, and Tony had only gotten a glimpse of it as a blueprint in his dad's office, but it was enough to intrigue Tony with the possibilities of a self-sustaining energy core. Howard had scrapped the project after about two months of failed attempts, there was never enough money in peace for his father's liking. Tony felt differently, he filled up notebooks full of calculations and elementary theories on how he could get something like the arc reactor to work without becoming nuclear. He had given himself a head start, despite it being years since he had looked into the technology as anything more than a hobby but Tony was good. He was very good.

  
He had worked on the core first, using the palladium that was meant to act as a catalyst in the Jericho to power the reactor and the copper ring to keep the energy focused and central. He next worked out the casing, the palladium was highly reactive and would erode his skin if he touched it, not to mention the chemical mixture was hot. Third degree burns kind of hot. So, Tony spent the next few hours hammering sheet metal from the supplies Rumlow had given him to form a protective circular casing for the arc reactor. 

  
It was a thing of beauty, the soft blue glow encased in a small metal circle the size of Tony's palm. It almost looked serene and ghostly in its appearance, hiding a powerhouse of energy that could probably fry a man. Or when channelled, blow the lock off a metal door. 

  
Tony used one of the thick fabric welding gloves that he used when soldering the metal together to hold the device. Constructing a complex rigging system to allow the arc reactor to attach to the glove and sit in the palm of Tony's hand when he put it on. 

  
By the time he was so hungry he felt sick and he was running on pure exhaustion, Tony had made the arc reactor glove fully weaponised. He wiggled his fingers into the glove, the heavy reactor feeling weird in his palm. He flexed his hand, twisting his wrist this way and that to get used to the feel and the slight warmth in the centre of his palm.

  
Tony sighed, raising his arm out in front of him and aiming at the wall. To activate the reactor he had to squeeze his fingers around the metal casing, it was a crude system but Tony didn't have the time or equipment to create anything a little more subtle. 

  
Squeezing his fingers slightly, he felt the heat in his palm spread, the device in his hand humming before a jet of pure unfiltered energy came from the arc reactor and hit the wall. Tony ducked, the force of the impact drawing him to his knees and he clenched his fingers. The wall in front of him was smoking, the smell of burning dust clinging to the area. In the wall where the arc reactor hit was a huge crater, a large chuck of cement and stone missing out of the wall and a black charred out edge was all that was left.

  
Tony rose to stand at his full height again, eyes on the arc reactor shining softly in his palm, "Well, what do you know?" He muttered softly, "Maybe I am my father's son after all." He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice at that thought, the idea that he was anything like Howard never sat well with him.

  
In the back of his mind, Tony had to remind himself why he needed to create a weapon. It wasn't for commercial destruction or profit. It was for survival. He needed to get out of there, he needed to make sure Peter and Rhodey were safe from Hydra and he needed to make sure Steve knew who he was dealing with. He could destroy it as soon as he was out and safe, no one but him would see this technology.

  
Or maybe, they could. Maybe he could repurpose the arc reactor tech, make it something better than a weapon. An energy source had any applications beyond that.

He could help people with that kind of tech, a self-sustaining energy source. That was worth a deeper look.

  
That was a thought for later though, right now his mind was on escape. 

  
The next minutes would be crucial and he needed to focus. 

  
Tony wasn't sure how to get ready for a fight, for a battle. He wasn't a soldier; he wasn't a gang member. He was a mechanic; he could make and invent with his eyes shut but using his inventions for an escape plan? That was new territory.

  
It was Peter's hopeful brown eyes and Rhodey's laugh that convinced him he could do this. It was Steve's smile, soft and dangerous and directed right at him. It was the knowledge that Tony Stark was many things, a mechanic, a genius, but most importantly a survivor. 

  
They messed with the wrong mechanic.

  
Tony squared his shoulders, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had one shot at this and no real plan after he was out. He flexed his hands out, rising up his palm so the arc reactor was pointed at the metal lock, focusing on the complex locking system that kept Tony trapped. 

  
The warm in his palm tingled slightly but Tony ignored it, he braced his feet on the ground and grit his teeth, preparing himself for the force of energy that he knew was coming. With a squeeze of his heavy gloved fingers around the metal, a familiar hum and a beam of pure energy aimed at the metal, Tony watched as the lock practically melted. The metal sparked, smoke filling the room before a disformed beeping echoed in Tony's ears and the door blasted open.

  
Tony managed to keep himself upright this time at least, his palm stinging from the heat as he released his fingers from their grip and took in his handy work with the door. A clear path to freedom, out of the smoke and dust in the air. Tony took tentative steps. 

  
He could hear shouting in the distance, harsh voices and biting orders from the tone. He took another few steps, clearing the remains of his cell door and scanned the corridor. 

  
The shouts grew louder, boots thundering against the concrete floor. 

  
Several Hydra men around the corner with guns, eyes trained on Tony.

  
Tony managed a shit eating grin, giving them a little wave with his gloved hand.

  
The gang members took their aim, guns cocked.

  
Tony set off running.

  
They opened fire on his retreating back. 

  
/

  
Bucky had come through for him and not even an hour after he had received a call from his right-hand man, Steve was heading out to the location Bucky had given him to meet them. Natasha was with him, refusing to let Steve go alone despite his direct orders otherwise.

  
The night was a bitter one, Steve was sure it would snow before the night was out if the fresh coldness to the air was any indication. He would have Tony back safely before the night was out as well. Of that he was certain.

  
Steve nodded in greeting when he spotted Bucky, heading over to him with Nat on his heels.

  
"Tony?" He asked before he could stop himself.

  
Bucky's eyes were scanning the warehouse, "I haven't seen him but he has to be in there. Rumlow was here earlier, left with a couple of guys just before I called you. If we're doing this, we gotta do it now."

  
"We aren't doing anything." Steve insisted, "I'm going in alone."

  
"Steve, don't be stupid. We don't know numbers or weapons or if he's even in there." Nat pointed out, her tone firm.

  
Steve shook his head, already reaching for the gun at his hip, "No, you guys can't be seen anywhere near this. You heard Fury; immunity only stands if you stay clean."

  
"What about you?" Bucky demanded.

  
"I'm a mob boss, Buck. I'm the King of Brooklyn. Do you really think they'd give me immunity after all the shit I've done?" Steve sighed, "I have to do this. I have to get him out and if I can save you as well then you best believe that's the play I'm going to make."

  
"We're not leaving." Natasha responded, her eyebrow quirked. Steve could see her breath form in the cold air.

  
"This isn't a discussion."

  
"You're right, it's not." She replied, "We won't do anything unless we have to but I'm not leaving until I know you're clear." 

  
Steve was about to argue that he was the one to give the orders but Bucky interrupted them, eyes back on the warehouse.

  
"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast." He told Steve with a grim face, "Something is happening down there."

  
Steve followed his eyeline, eyes scanning the area which in mere moments had become a hub of activity. He watched as more men flooded into the main warehouse from the smaller outhouses like an alarm had been raised. Steve clocked the heavy guns each one carried and instinctively clicked his own safety off. 

  
This wasn't going to be pretty.

  
Suddenly, there was a loud bang from inside. The kind of sound a firework makes when it launches into the air. Steve hadn't heard something on that scale since Afghanistan and he found himself gripping his gun tighter. That feeling of anticipation pooled in his gut, the same feeling he always got before a heavy fight. The adrenaline would kick in next, the second he shot off his first bullet and then it'd be pure instinct. 

  
"Stay here." He gritted out, every bit The Captain ordering his troops and he was on the move.

  
He didn't even spare a glance behind him to see if Bucky and Natasha had followed his command. They would, he knew, they always did when it mattered. Steve was half crouched, half running towards the warehouse where the noise originated from. His eyes glancing down the barrel of his gun. 

  
He shot once. Twice. Taking out two men from the doorway and effectively clearing his entry point. Steve slipped inside easily, body coiled like a spring ready to fight and a flutter of snow starting to fall from the sky. 

  
It would be a cold night in Brooklyn.

  
/

  
Tony recoiled slightly from the blast, his muscles pulling from the strain of the force of using the arc reactor. He'd be sore tomorrow, but he'd see tomorrow and that thought kept him moving. 

  
He was running on guess work, having no idea about the warehouse or it's layout but he kept heading in the same direction, pushing forward. His guess was it was once industrial, if the metal timbers and support beams ahead of him were any indication and that meant in theory there would be an exit from either end of the warehouse. One for trade goods and one for staff.

  
The blast he had just set off had knocked back five men blocking his path, he always made sure to aim it at their feet rather than directly at them. Broken bones and concussions he could live with but he wasn't sure he wanted murder was on his list of achievements. 

  
He'd love to see Rumlow hang though.

  
Tony set off running again, jumping over the unconscious limbs on the floor of hydra gang members. He hadn't seen Rumlow in the chaos yet but Tony knew he couldn't be far behind.

  
He rounded another corner, coming face to face with three more guys. He grimaced, eyeing them carefully. The heavy guns across their shoulders caught his eye.

  
"Don't suppose you've seen the exit?" Tony smiled with a shrug.

  
The guy in the middle cocked his weapon.

  
"I guess not." Tony replied, holding out his gloved hand and trying to shield his eyes from the power of the arc reactor.

  
/

  
Steve snapped the neck of the guy in front of him in a second, barely enough time for him to blink. Hydra was on edge about something and Steve couldn't help the small part of his mind that screamed 'Tony'. 

  
He needed to find him.

  
He needed to be out of there before Rumlow made it back to base and found him.

  
He rounded another corner, stopping short at the five men in between him and the end of the corridor. Steve still had his gun raised, he knew he only had three bullets left though. He had used most of his ammo getting this far.

  
"You know who I am." Steve told them, locking their gaze, "you know this won't end well for you." 

  
"The Captain, just a man with a gun." One of the men sneered, "A man with a gun who can bleed." 

  
Steve smiled, "You die first." 

  
"We'll shoot your boyfriend before you can even find him." Was the reply.

  
Steve's smile grew. That mean Tony was still alive. That meant he was close, "Before we get started, does anyone want to leave?"

  
The silence that greeted him was deafening. Fools or brave men, Steve wasn't sure there was much difference. If they stood in the way of him reaching Tony, then they were all dead men either way.

  
Steve shot his first bullet right into the neck of the guy he promised would die first. Steve was a man of his word. Everyone else charged or fired.

  
He dodged the first man, moving to the side at the last moment and aiming his gun at his temple as the guy regained his footing against the wall. Steve pulled the trigger, blood and brains splattering the wall behind him. Thor might have even been proud of the mess he made.

  
One bullet left. Three guys to go.

  
A shot rang out. Not from Steve and he felt the bullet slice through the meat of his side. It was a graze, the bullet nicked him and sailed past to lodge into the wall behind him. 

  
The wound was hot and stung but wasn't bleeding much, more like a cat scratch then a hole. 

  
Steve shot back, his last bullet dodging into the guy's forehead. It was a kill shot and the body fell to the floor in a heap.

  
Two guys left. No more bullets.

  
Steve tossed the gun aside, it served no use for him now then as a weight in his hand.

  
The first guy charged at him and Steve wanted to admire the effort he put in. He was strong, Steve was stronger.

  
"Wrong move." Steve told him, "You were meant to use my weight against me." 

  
He twisted the guy up, hands on either side of his head and pulled sharply. The snap was sickening, and the change was immediate. Steve let the body fall to the floor before calmly stepping over it.

  
The last guy standing had a gun held in a shaky hand and he had the good sense to raise it as Steve stalked towards him, closing the gap like a hunter approaching his prey.

  
The click of the gun didn't slow Steve down, the adrenaline in his body was working overtime and the only though he had was to get to Tony.

  
"Bullets are a painful way to die. Slow, lazy, it's almost a waste for metal." Steve told him, "Breaking someone's neck is quicker, cleaner and more humane." 

  
"I ain't afraid of you." Was the reply.

  
Steve smiled, "That's what they all say. That's good, at least I know you won't piss yourself when I kill you."

  
He was quick, Steve was quicker. He was in his opponents’ personal space in seconds, twisting the hand holding the gun up so the barrel was pressing under the hydra man's chin. Both his and Steve's fingers were locked on the trigger.

  
"Before I kill you, I just want you to know why," Steve whispered in the space between them, "why you had to die tonight. Why Rumlow will fall. Why I'm going to enjoy it." He squeezed his finger a fraction, waiting for the whimper from the other man, "You went after him. That's why you're dead. You dared to go after Tony."

  
He pushed his finger down further, the sound of the shot ringing in his ears as it was pushed from the barrel into the man's chin and up. Steve could feel his blood splatter onto his face, covering his cheeks in a fine spray.

  
The body fell limp, blood pooling to the floor. Steve barely looked at it as he rounded the corner, he had to be close.

  
/

  
Tony was running again, his chest heaving and his palm uncomfortably warm as he rounded another corner. He heard heavy footsteps and his hand was up instantly. 

  
In reality, he was exhausted and using the arc reactor was taking its toll on his body still running without food or sleep but he'd fight until he dropped if that's what it took.

  
He steadied himself, tasting metal in his mouth and preparing to use the arc reactor again. The footsteps grew louder. A figure rounded the corner into Tony's corridor.

  
Tony did a double take.

  
"Steve?!" He called out, eyes scanning the familiar ice blue eyes and beard underneath the blood.

  
Steve smirked, raising his hands up in surrender, "Easy Rambo, don't shot your rescue party." 

  
Tony blanched, letting his hand fall to his side and then he was moving. Steve was as well, meeting him half way.

  
"How did you..." Tony started.

  
Steve had his own question, "Did you make that?" 

  
Their words tumbled together and either bothered to answer because then they were moving again. Colliding into each other as Steve cupped his cheek and drew him in. Tony fused their lips together, kissing him soundly.

  
Steve was the one who pulled back first, hand moving to the dried blood on Tony's temple with a scowl, "They'll die for this. I promise. I'm sorry they took you, I didn't think..." 

  
Tony shook his head, "I'm not here because of you. I'm here because of Howard."

  
"What?"

  
"We don't have time." 

  
Steve wanted to say they’d make time. That nothing was more important than this but he knew Tony was right, “I have an exit, you need a ride?” He asked instead, couldn’t resist the teasing in his voice at having Tony safe and back with him. 

  
“I’m going whichever way you’re going, soldier.” Tony replied with a smile. It gave way to a frown as he pulled his hand back from its place at Steve’s side. His fingers were slick with blood, “Did you get shot?!”

  
Steve shook his head, “We don’t have time.” He reminded Tony quickly, slipping a hand into the one not encased in the arc reactor technology and turning on his heel to go back they way he’d come. 

  
He was expecting more resistance, more men. Perhaps Rumlow wasn’t quite so popular by Hydra standards either. Having Tony’s hand in his was a solid weight, a reminder of what he had saved tonight in exchange for his potential freedom and possibly his death. Steve squeezed it tighter as he turned around the corner. 

  
“Why are you here?” Tony asked him softly, keeping pace with him as Steve took another corner. The bodies he had killed minutes before were still decorating the floor of the corridor. Steve barely paid them any attention as he guided Tony through the mess. 

  
“I came for you.” Steve told him firmly. 

  
Tony frowned, “The war with Hydra.”

  
“Is underway. Or it will be when Rumlow sees this.” Steve replied, stepping over a slumped body. 

  
“Did you kill them?” 

  
“Yes.” Steve told him, waiting for Tony to pull his hand away in disgust, “I’m not sorry. They took you.” 

  
“Why does that matter?” Tony mused, “Me versus a Brooklyn turf war? How’d you do that math?”

  
Steve frowned, “You’re not expendable Tony, not to me.” 

  
Tony squeezed his hand, “Is this because I’m easy on the eyes?” 

  
Steve could feel his attempt at humour as he rounded the corner, but he couldn’t find it in him to smile. His side was getting worse and he was pretty sure the adrenaline was wearing off, “It’s because you’re… you.”

  
Tony didn’t respond to that and Steve wanted to ask him what he was thinking. He needed to know what Tony was thinking because that was as close to an omission of feelings he had gotten, and he could feel the blood pumping in his ears. A room of Hydra men he could deal with, silence from Tony Stark? Steve wasn’t sure how to deal with that. 

  
It would have been too easy for them just to be able to walk out of there and Steve should have guessed that the lack of men in the hallways was because they were all heading to block off the exit. Rumlow had taught them something at least. 

  
Steve grit his teeth, pushing Tony behind his body as he saw the five men blocking their path. Snow was falling heavily behind them, a mark of freedom as it blurred the city skyline. It wasn’t even a showdown. Five guys with guns against Steve, bleeding and unarmed. He was good but he wasn’t invincible and even he couldn’t see a way through those odds. 

  
“One chance, you let us go and I let you live.” Steve told them; he was bluffing but right now it was all he had. 

  
Tony had his palm raised, “You heard The Captain.” He added, flexing his fingers over the device of the glove. 

  
There was a deadlock for a split second, a battle of wits on both sides to see who would cave first. Steve’s eyes burned into them, the anger and rage within him making his blue eyes impossibly dark and deadly. He saw a hand waver on the trigger of the gun in the man’s hand. A slight movement, the man himself had probably barely registered he’d done it. 

  
Then the stalemate broke and a shot rang out. Steve acted quickly, shoving both him and Tony back around the corner for cover as the bullet embedded into the wall where Steve’s head had been. They were trapped like rats in a barrel and Steve didn’t have a weapon. What he wouldn’t give for one of Nat’s knives right now. 

  
Tony was breathing heavily beside him, the adrenaline making him sweat.

  
“Come out, come out, Captain.” A voice called to them, “Rumlow will probably kill you first so you don’t have to watch him die.” 

  
Steve grunted, “I’m going to distract them, okay? You run straight for the exit. My team is out there, they’ll get you out.” 

  
“Not without you.” Tony replied, “I have something. It might work.” He flexed his gloved hand for emphasis. 

  
“A weapon?” 

  
“It’s a mini arc reactor. Pure energy, I solved the equations when I was 17. It’s an energy source that might be able to run Brooklyn for a year given the right treatment,” Tony replied, “But sure, for now it’s a weapon.”

  
Steve eyes widen, “How did you manage to build that?” 

  
Another shot was fired into the wall in front of them. A warning shot. Hydra was getting impatient. 

  
“Told Rumlow I was building him a bomb.” Tony shrugged, “Idiot believed me.” 

  
Steve couldn’t help but smile, “You’re a hell of a mechanic.” 

  
“Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.” 

  
Then Tony was moving, he was so fast that Steve could barely blink before Tony was moving in front of him, arm raised as his fingers flexed around the glove.

Steve felt warm and a bright light blinded his eyes for a moment as a soft buzzing sound filled the air. He heard bodies thump to the fall, dull and lifeless and then Tony was lowering his arm and Steve’s vision managed to right itself. 

  
He moved out from behind the wall, noting the bodies that once stood in their way as a piled heap on the floor. Steve frowned, glancing back at Tony again, “Let’s go.” 

  
Tony nodded, sliding the glove off his hand with a grimace, Steve could see the raw pink skin of his palm. That must hurt. They picked a path over the bodies in the doorway and made it out into the cold Brooklyn night air. 

  
The snow was falling fast, already collecting on the ground and Steve stopped to scoop some up. He pushed the cold snow into Tony’s burnt palm despite the other man’s slight flinch at that action.

  
“It will help with the burn.” Steve commented gently.

  
Tony nodded, “Thanks.”

  
Natasha, Bucky and Thor had managed to pick their way across the clearing from the vantage point where Steve had left them. They looked uninjured and Natasha had snowflakes melting into her red hair. 

  
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked when they approached them.

  
Steve nodded, “We’ll live. You?” 

  
Bucky nodded, “Same. We had to kill a few guys trying to get back into the building though, didn’t want you to get overrun.”

  
“It’s okay, I had backup.” His eyes drifted down to Tony for a moment, “We have just started a war though.”

  
Natasha shook her head, “We didn’t start it. They did.” She looked at Tony with a soft smile, “Hi, I’m Natasha.” 

  
Tony waved, “Tony.” 

  
“Can we do this later?” Bucky replied, “If Rumlow comes back and we’re standing around I don’t fancy our chances.” 

  
Steve nodded, “Bucky, you and Nat get back to the house. Let everyone know we’re okay. Thor, can you give us a lift? Tony lives downtown.” 

  
Thor nodded, “Of course, Captain.”

  
“Wait, what about Rumlow?” Tony asked, “He’s building bombs, Steve. That’s why he took me. My dad told him I could engineer him something powerful so he could sell it.”

  
Steve swore under his breath, “That’s his play? That’s how he’s going to secure Brooklyn under his reign? Back street dealing?”

  
Thor nodded, “It makes sense if he truly craves the power of ruling a city, Captain. Bombs would made him invincible.” 

  
“Not on my watch.” Steve replied, “Bucky, hand me your lighter.” 

  
Bucky frowned, reaching into his pocket for the lighter he always carried. Steve knew he hadn’t smoked since before the army, but he still carried a lighter, flipping the lid and striking the fuse repeatedly if he was anxious the way Steve would pace. He passed it to Steve, the cold metal heavy in his palm. 

  
Natasha knew his train of thought, “If you want to burn down an empire, you’re going to need some petrol to make sure it ignites.” 

  
“Here try this.” Tony said offering the glove out to Steve, “The energy surging through that thing should be enough to give you a nice explosion.” 

  
Steve took the glove from his hand, lighting the end of it with Bucky’s lighter. It set alight easily and Steve throw it in the door they had just come out of. He handed the lighter back to Bucky with a nod of thanks, letting Natasha and Bucky head back the way they’d came. Thor disappeared as well; Steve assumed he was going to start the car. 

  
Tony stood at his side as they watched the flames grow higher, taking hold of the shipment yard until smoke plumed through the sky and flames licked through the structure. The snow was still falling around them as they watched it burn.

  
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” Tony asked quietly, eyes on the flames. 

  
Steve shook his head, “I needed to destroy the equipment he has for making bombs. I also needed to send a message. This does both.” 

  
“What’s the message?” 

  
“That I know who he is. That the King of Brooklyn is coming for him and anyone who dared touch you.” Steve replied, voice firm and strong. 

  
Tony shivered, “You don’t need to start a war for me.” 

  
“I’m not. Rumlow started it the moment he decided to make bombs in my city.” Steve replied, shrugging out of his leather jacket, “Let’s get you home.”

  
Tony shivered again, the cold biting at his bare arms before a heavy weight settled over his shoulders and the smell of Steve invaded his nose. Steve’s leather jacket hung from his frame, solid and warm and safe. Tony pulled it tighter around himself to ward off the cold. 

  
“Just another minute? I want to watch this.” Tony replied, he moved his hand out into the cold air, fingers searching for Steve’s as he tangled their hands together. 

  
Steve seemed shocked by the move but didn’t pull away, “Okay.” He replied softly, eyes still on the flames. 

  
/

  
“Can I borrow your phone? I need to call Peter and Rhodey.” Tony asked him once they were settled into the back seat of the car, Thor speeding them through Brooklyn’s sleepy streets like it was a game of Mario Kart. Tony still had Steve’s jacket tucked around him and he couldn’t help but keep peering over at the patch of red coating his shirt. 

  
Steve pulled his phone out of the jacket pocket currently around Tony and offered it to him, “You can’t tell them about me or Hydra.” 

  
Tony nodded, “Rumlow threatened them to motivate me. I just need to check they’re okay.”

  
“I’ll have a protection detail set up on both of them discreetly by morning.” Steve assured him, “Rumlow won’t get close.” 

  
“You don’t have to…”

  
“You’re under my protection which means your family is as well.” Steve replied, “That’s how I run my business.” 

  
Tony took the phone with a small nod, “Are you sure we don’t need to go to the hospital for that?” He nodded towards Steve’s side. 

  
Steve grunted, “No, it’s just a graze. Bullet barely touched me. It stings more than anything.”

  
“You’re getting slow, Captain.” Thor jested from the front seat. 

  
“Give me a week and we’ll spar like old times. I’ll show you slow.” Steve grumbled.

  
Tony watched the exchange with a fondness, this really was a family. This rag-tag bunch of criminals that would kill and die for each other. It made his heart stutter. He dialled in Rhodey’s number and waited for it to ring. 

  
Rhodey was still at the office when Tony called, working intel that suggested Tony had been kidnapped and he had gone into panic mode when Tony hadn’t answered his phone. Tony bluffed as best he could, explaining he was at the shop and lost track of time. He was fine and hadn’t been kidnapped, what was Rhodey taking these days? He could have stayed talking to him for an hour but he didn’t want to have to lie to him anymore so Tony quickly hung up with a cheerful jib about him needing to get some actual work done and telling Rhodey maybe he needed to take a few days off. 

  
The phone call with Peter was shorter. Mainly because Peter had clearly been asleep when Tony had phoned, and he sounded so tired that Tony felt guilty for even calling him in the first place. He told the boy to take tomorrow off, they had nothing scheduled to do tomorrow anyway and he told him to cook Aunt May a nice meal, that pasta dish Tony had told him to make. Peter promised he would give it a try and bring Tony some leftovers to the shop the following day. Tony knew he had to let him go back to sleep when Peter’s replies got slower and slower. He bid him a goodbye, trying to keep the emotion from his voice and the relief that Peter was perfectly fine from choking him. 

  
Steve’s eyes watched him the whole time, giving him his privacy but scanning over him to check he was okay. Tony didn’t know why he found it nice rather than uncomfortable, he wasn’t used to someone paying such close attention to him. Thor zipped around another corner in fourth gear as he handed Steve back his phone. 

  
“They’re okay.” Tony sighed, closing his eyes for a moment of relief. 

  
Steve quickly pocketed his phone, “This is our stop.” 

  
Tony opened his eyes to see they were indeed at his condo building, that had been fast. 

  
“Thanks for the drive, Thor.” Tony told the giant in the front seat, “Mind if I borrow your Captain for the night?” 

  
“Of course, Tony. He’ll all yours.” 

  
Steve frowned, “I’m not some puppy you can pass around.” 

  
“So, you’re not going to walk me to my door like a gentleman?” Tony questioned. 

  
Steve glanced at him knowing he had just been played, “Of course I am.” He huffed, “I’ll head back tomorrow, Thor. Can we make sure a detail is set up for Rhodes and Peter?” 

  
“I’ll see to it, Captain.” Thor replied, “Have a good night.” 

  
Steve nodded, pushing open the car door to step out into the chilly air, the snow was getting thicker, covering the ground in white clumps that Steve knew would still be there come morning. 

  
Tony’s condo was warm when they stepped inside and Tony flicked the lights on, Steve was just moving his feet. The adrenaline was leaving his system and he was tired. 

  
He watched as Tony shrugged out of his jacket, placing it gently over the back of the sofa before grabbing his hand and leading him over to the bedroom. 

  
“If this is a booty call, I feel like I should warn you I’m about twenty minutes away from crashing so I’m not sure it’s going to be…” Steve started as Tony pushed his vest over his head and let it fall to the floor. 

  
“It’s not.” He replied, “Just let me take care of you. You need a shower and a bandage.” 

  
Steve glanced down at his side then back at Tony, “I’m not sure…”

  
“Don’t start putting those walls up now.” Tony asked gently, “You need sleep.”

  
“This isn’t what fuck buddies do.” Steve reminded him. 

  
Tony hummed, slipping out of his trousers and kicking off his shoes, “Is that really all we are?” 

  
“It’s all we can be.” Steve replied, “It’s the only way to protect you.”

  
“Rumlow came after me anyway, Steve. And it had nothing to do with you. Now, Howard working for him? I can’t sit back and let Rumlow build bombs, Steve. We need to find a way to end this. To bring him down. So, I’m already in this, whether you want to keep me out or not. It’s not your call anymore.” 

  
Steve knew he was right, but it still didn’t sit well with him. Once Tony was completely naked, he moved over to Steve, hands on his belt. 

  
“Tony, we can’t. I can’t.”

  
“Do you want this, yes or no?” Tony challenged. 

  
Steve wanted to run, he wanted to explain all the reasons why he couldn’t have this. Instead he answered, “Yes.” 

  
“Okay, now you have to ask me the same question.” Tony prompted. 

  
Steve sighed as Tony undid his belt, “Do you want this? Me, do you want me?”

  
“Yes.” Tony answered instantly, so sure of himself as those deep brown eyes poured into Steve’s and his hands pushed Steve’s jeans down his legs.

  
“Tony…” Steve started.

  
“Shh.” Tony cut him off, “That’s enough for now. Let’s just shower and get some sleep, okay?” 

  
Steve nodded, letting Tony strip him of the rest of his clothes and push him into the shower with nothing more than his nimble hands and a short kiss. The energy was leaving him, as it always did after a fight like that. He was drained but the water felt nice on his skin and Tony’s hands felt even nicer, so he sighed happily and relax into the other man’s touch as Tony scrubbed them both clean. 

  
He took gentle care to dry and bandage Steve’s side once they were out, fingers running over his skin softly. Steve hummed happily as Tony worked, planting little kisses along his bicep as he finished the job at hand. 

  
“How do you know how to do that?” Steve asked, voice thick and gruff. 

  
Tony smiled gently, “Mechanic, remember? Injuries are part of the job.” 

  
Steve felt his fingers smoothing out the edge of the tape on his side, “I’m sorry Rumlow took you.”

  
“I didn’t think you were going to come for me.” Tony admitted softly, “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

  
Steve grabbed his hand, “I’ll always come for you.”

  
He saw the flicker of a hundred different emotions dance across Tony’s eyes as he finished his work.

  
Steve was dead weight by that point, eyes heavy and limbs useless. He was so tired. The adrenaline had left him spent like he’d ran a marathon or had several rounds of sex. Tony hauled him to his feet, pushing him into the bed with gentle hands before climbing in next to him. 

  
It was nice, this little safe haven carved out of Tony’s life. Tony’s skin against his. Steve managed to find enough strength to haul Tony in close to him, arms tight around the mechanic while he buried his nose into Tony’s hair and then he was out like a light, barely feeling the kiss Tony placed over his heart softly as he relaxed into him. 


	12. Chapter 12

When Tony woke up he instantly reached out to pull the covers closer to his chest, the morning chill had a bite to it that not even the walls of the condo could fight off. His hand hit solid flesh in his quest for more covers and Tony blinked his eyes open. The events of last night came back to him in a swirl, breaking through his sleepy haze.

Steve was already awake and had been for some time by the looks of it. He was sat up, leaning back against the headboard with the covers pooled around his waist. Tony couldn’t help but notice that Steve hadn’t bothered to get dressed yet and was still deliciously naked next to him. He was also thinking too hard, Tony could see the worried etched into his features, the look of a man wrestling with too much on his mind.

Tony reached out a hand for him, fingers curling around the meat of Steve’s thigh as he let out of groan, “You’re thinking too much.” Tony commented, voice rough from sleep.

Steve gave him a small smile, tearing his eyes away from the window to meet Tony’s gaze. Those steel blue eyes were so soft and yielding, Tony could almost imagine waking up to them every morning.

He pulled at Steve’s thigh again, making him shift back down so Tony could lean up and kiss him. Steve was an excellent kisser, soft and demanding and consuming all at once. If Tony could drown in it then he happily would.

When he pulled back, he noticed the set of Steve’s shoulders were slightly more relaxed than before, coiled muscle loosening as he shifted back to lay down besides Tony in bed.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” Steve told him softly, getting comfortable on his side to face Tony.

Tony shifted as well, shoving a hand under his head as he got settled, eyes locked with Steve’s. They weren’t touching, a small sliver of space kept between them, yet it felt oddly intimate to be like this with Steve. They were both naked and without their metaphorical armour. They’d never done this before. The lazy indulgence in each other, normally they were busy redressing or rushing off somewhere else.

Tony liked this better.

Steve’s gaze was burning though, those eyes searching the depths of Tony’s soul, or at least that’s what it felt like. He wanted to pull the covers over his head and hide. Instead he reached out across the small space between them, fingers brushing against Steve’s bandage, small spots of blood had come through the fabric but nothing alarming and Tony allowed himself a moment of relief that Steve hadn’t been badly injured trying to get him back.

Because he had come for him. Even when Tony himself hadn’t believed he would, hadn’t dared to hope. Steve had still come for him. That knowledge made Tony’s stomach flit uncomfortably, it was what prompted him to make his confession last night. They weren’t fuck buddies; they were barely that but that current underneath the sex that neither one wanted to address had been brought to the forefront when he had rounded the corner to find Steve looking for him.

His fingers moved down, softly, barely grazed the skin, but he felt Steve freeze for a moment under his touch. They stopped just above Steve’s hip, tracing the jagged edge of skin there. Tony couldn’t see the scar, but he knew it was there. He’d seen it when they had sex, then again in the shower. It wasn’t big, a small line barely several centimetres across.

“How’d you get this?” He asked gently.

Steve shifted slightly, “Stabbed with a pocket knife.”

“How.” Tony pressed gently, fingers ghosting over the scar.

“I’d just taken over the gang, Phillips was dead. Hydra thought it would be easier to take me out before I started rebuilding. Some happy-go-lucky bastard cornered me in an alleyway with a bunch of thugs.” Steve told him; eyes unreadable.

Tony nodded, his fingers moving down over Steve’s hip and he felt the other man give a sharp intake of breath as Tony continued his journey down towards Steve’s hip. His fingers curled towards his inner thigh and Steve parted his legs slightly so Tony could find what he was looking for.

Another scar, running along the width of Steve’s left inner thigh. The line was thinner than the one on his hip, the skin white and healed over. It was older than the first one.

“And this one?”

Steve swallowed thickly, “The army. A mission in Afghanistan. I was clearing out a building with my team, a bomb went off. The shrapnel tore through my leg on the way out.”

“Do you miss it?” Tony asked, “The army.”

“No,” Steve responded, “Sometimes I think I do. When Phillips recruited me for the gang, I was fresh out of Afghanistan and he said he thought I needed a war to survive. Maybe he was right, I don’t know. The army gave me a lot, but it took a lot as well. Everything I was, I left it in the desert.”

“I know you think you can’t have things, that you can’t want things but you’re not just The Captain. I see you, Steve. You didn’t come after me yesterday because it made smart gang sense to get me back, you came after me because you care about me. That’s not a move The Captain would make from what I understand.” Tony replied.

Steve took a deep breath, “I can’t read you; you know? Every time I try to work out what you’re thinking, and I get nothing. You’re right, I came after you because the thought of you being hurt makes my stomach churn. It went against everything I should have done to protect myself and my team and I don’t completely understand it myself. The effect you have on me.”

Tony tried not to smile at that, he tried to ignore the way his heart sped up and his mouth went dry. Steve’s hand moved from the bed, reach up towards Tony’s shoulder and over to the cluster of circles on his shoulder blade. He tried not to flinch as Steve’s large fingers felt the bumps and ridges of the scars marking his skin.

“How did you get these?” Steve asked, voice dropping lower than before, “I noticed them first time we slept together but I didn’t think it was the right time to ask. It was none of my business.”

“And it is now?” Tony asked, the words harsher than he intended.

Steve pulled his hand away and dropped it back down on the mattress between them, “You don’t have to tell me, Tony.”

“No, it’s okay.” He took a breath, “I just don’t like thinking about it. Howard wasn’t a stellar father, when he drank, he got angry. My mom passed away and it got worse. I got too old to hide from him.”

Steve’s eyes grew wide, “You don’t get scars like that from punches.”

“You do from cigarettes.” Tony sighed, “Perfect little circles burned into the skin.”

“Your father put his cigarettes out on your back?” Tony could hear the anger in Steve’s voice.

His hand curled round Steve’s, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Tony.” Steve insisted.

Tony kept his mouth shut because of course it wasn’t okay. Tony knew it wasn’t okay, he had spent so many nights drinking to stop his back from stinging as it scabbed over. He had spent weeks going to Rhodey’s place to get him to clean them so they wouldn’t get infected. None of that was okay.

“Would you like me to kill him for you?” Steve asked softly, fingers squeezing Tony’s when he didn’t speak.

Tony wanted to laugh, “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”

“Completely serious,” Steve replied, eyes hard and unyielding, “I can have it done by lunchtime?”

“Jesus, Steve, normal people don’t talk about murder before breakfast.” Tony replied, taken back by the firmness of Steve’s tone.

Steve squeezed his hand again, “He hurt you.”

“And I dealt with it. I left. I’m okay now. As romantic as your offer is, Romeo, I don’t need you to kill my dad, okay?” Tony replied, eyes boring into Steve’s.

Steve nodded, “Okay, sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.” The words were a whisper from his mouth.

Tony shifted closer, closing the gap between them, pressing his mouth to the back of Steve’s hand whilst their fingers were still locked together, “You didn’t. Just never really had someone willing to kill for me before.”

“You do now.” Steve said, “I would kill anyone who dared to hurt you, Tony.”

Tony shivered at his words but not in fear. It was a reaction to the intense burning in Steve’s eyes, like an unspoken promise passing between them.

“Is this your way of saying you sorta like having me around?” Tony asked gently, a smile curving into his lips.

Steve responded with a smile of his own, “Maybe.”

“I sorta like having you around too, big guy.” Tony told him, the strength of those words carrying in the space between them.

Then it shifted. Steve tugged Tony closer by their joined hands, rolling onto his back with a groan against the mattress until Tony was settled above him. His body lined against every inch of Steve’s, he could feel the muscles under his skin jump against his own, the way Steve’s cock jerked and grew firmer as Tony settled above him. The expanding motion of Steve’s ribcage matched his as they settled into their warmth under the covers that had slipped down to their waists.

“I’m heavy.” Tony heaved out, hands against Steve’s shoulders.

Steve ran his hands up and down the dip of Tony’s back, “You’re fine.”

“I meant what I said last night, you know. I do want this. Whatever this is with you.” Tony told him; his words softer than he’d have liked.

Steve shifted slightly, Tony felt every movement, “Have you thought about what that means? I’m a mob boss, Tony. I’m always going to be that. I kill people, I hurt them. I’m not the guy you can bring home to meet the family.”

“I want you.” Tony replied, “Not because you’re the perfect guy. Not because you’re an upstanding citizen or the ‘smart’ choice. You see me, Steve. Really see me, in a way not even Rhodey does. The way you make me feel, I can’t even… I’m sure, okay. The sex is a point in your favour too.”

Steve chuckled, “I meant it too, about wanting this. I don’t know how to do that though, to want something for myself.”

Tony shifted, rubbing his cock against Steve’s and feeling it harden beneath him, “You’re doing just fine.”

Steve’s hands were on his hips now, a glint to his eye that was nothing short of teasing, “I might be in jail soon.” He sighed.

Tony froze for a second, “What?”

“The turf war, the cops are bringing in a specialised unit to get the gangs out of Brooklyn. I’m at the top of their Christmas list.” Steve replied with a grimace that told Tony he was deadly serious.

“Well, too bad because I don’t share.” Tony responded, rolling his hips into Steve to relish in the way his hands tighten on Tony’s hips, “Do you have a plan for this?”

“I’ll think of one.” Steve replied, gasping as Tony rolled his hips again, “I need to get Rumlow first, get him to the cops for the killings and then work out a deal.”

Tony rolled his hips again; this time Steve’s rose to meet him. He gave Steve a wide smile, “We’ll think of one. I’m not letting you go to jail, Steve.”

Steve was fully hard now, pressing against Tony insistently. Tony ground down against him, Steve’s body jerked to attention. He moved a hand up to Tony’s head, bringing his lips down for a deep kiss.

Tony moaned into it as he felt Steve’s hips thrust up against his rock-hard cock. Steve tore his mouth from Tony’s to work kisses into the side of his jaw, “You need to meet the team properly. I need to tell them you’re with us.”

Tony groaned, “Fuck Steve, don’t talk about family when I’m turned on.”

Steve sucked hard at Tony’s neck, “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Tony replied, “Family later.”

Steve rolled them over, trapping Tony in between his thighs as he placed him back against the mattress, his mouth moving towards Tony’s chest, “Family later.” Steve agreed, pressing his hips against Tony’s, “I want you, now.”

Tony nodded as he felt Steve’s hand wrap around his cock, “Definitely not going to jail.” He muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he threw his head back at Steve’s first stroke of his cock.

/

When they eventually made it back to Steve’s, hours later than he had originally planned, the mob boss couldn’t help but feel nervous. Tony was right by his side as they walked up the front steps of the house together, everyone else already inside and waiting for them.

The weight of this moment sat like a brick in Steve’s gut. It had been a long time since he had done this, brought someone new into the fold and asked his family to trust his judgement that they would be the right fit. The last one had been Thor, arguably the most difficult for them to get behind because of his bloodied history and his unpredictable nature but the team had voted in his favour. An agreement between them that Thor would be a much better ally than an enemy and if Natasha could see something in him worth saving, if Steve could find enough evidence in the man that prompted him to bring Thor back with him, then they would trust that instinct. Thor was now a member of their family and an invaluable asset to their team.

This was different.

He wasn’t asking them to view Tony as a gang member, he wasn’t going to make a declaration of what Tony could offer them like he normally would. This one was decidedly more selfish. Steve was asking his team to encompass Tony into their family because Steve wanted him there. Because he was important to Steve.

He wasn’t sure how well that was going to go down amongst his family.

Deep down, Steve knew it didn’t really matter. He could overrule them if he needed to as their leader. He could say really it was none of their business because Tony was with him and not them, but he wanted them to like him. He wanted them to see why Steve liked him. He wanted the approval of his family if they were really going to do this.

Because they were really doing this. Giving this thing between them a go. Something Steve hadn’t even been able to contemplate a few months ago. It was never something he desired, especially after Afghanistan. He figured he wasn’t built that way anymore; love and relationships weren’t for him but perhaps with Tony they could be back on the table. Perhaps he could be something more.

It might be a reckless decision. He had cops coming after him. Hydra and Rumlow coming after him and yet there was a part of him that couldn’t imagine fighting through all that and not having Tony there at the end of it.

Whatever slight shift Tony had created; it had caused a landslide within Steve that he was still struggling to understand himself.

Everyone was waiting for them when they entered the living room, a sea of faces with mixed emotions. Steve fought the urge to grab Tony’s hand for comfort although he did glance back to the mechanic in a moment of reassurance. It was a silent exchange, offering Tony one final chance to decide he wasn’t ready to sign up for this. For Steve’s life.

Tony’s honey brown eyes held his firmly, a soft smile curving his mouth and a steel resilience in the way he held himself that told Steve all he needed to know.

Tony was all in.

Steve stood up straighter, determined to give Tony the same back. He walked further into the room, scanning the faces of his family and drawing strength from them. These people were his safe harbour, everyone in this room meant something to him. He’d kill for them; he’d die for them. Surrounded by them, Steve felt invincible.

Tony lingered in the doorway; shoulder propped up against the doorframe, but Steve felt his eyes on him. He didn’t look awkward, just apprehensive. He wasn’t sure how this would go; he wasn’t sure of his place outside of their relationship yet. Steve remembered feeling the same way when he had first taken over from Phillips, the rolling uncertainty of what steps to take. They’d come, Steve knew, having had to carve out his own to get this far.

“Thank you all for coming,” Steve addressed them room, “I know being here in the middle of the day is less than ideal.” His eyes were on Sam and Bruce on the sofa as he spoke those words, knowing they both had jobs to uphold.

Sam smiled kindly and Steve found himself continuing, “As of yesterday evening we’re at war with Hydra. It’s going to be bloody; it’s going to be brutal. Rumlow isn’t going to stop.” He paused, eyes locking with Bucky, “And neither are we. Rumlow wants to bring bombs into our city. He wants to kill us and insight the kind of fear that will shape a generation. Not whilst I’m alive.”

There were murmurs from his team, a whispered call to war that had the atmosphere in the room buzzing.

Steve pressed ahead, “Rumlow wanted Tony to create a bomb that would level most of Brooklyn if he chose to aim it on these streets. As of now, Tony’s family is under our protection. Thor, you set the detail up?”

Thor nodded, “Round the clock for both the cop and the boy. I told the men to stay at a distance, the last thing we need is Rhodes arresting his own protection detail.”

“Thank you.” Tony spoke, voice softer than Steve was used to, “Really. Rumlow threatened them and I can’t let them get hurt because of me.”

Sam was the one to reply, “It’s what you do to protect family, right? If anyone understands that then it’s us.”

Steve nodded, “Which brings me to the reason for this meeting. I’m calling a vote to bring Tony into our team. You know how this works; you all get a say. I just want to make it clear that I don’t need your approval on my relationship with him outside of our family. That’s not up for discussion, this is about Rumlow, Tony’s safety and ours. If Rumlow wants him to create weapons, then I want him as far away from that as possible.”

“You want him to create weapons for us?” Clint asked, half a sandwich in his hands.

“No,” Steve replied firmly, “We aren’t playing Rumlow’s game.”

“I vote yes.” Sam called out with a shrug, “If we’re doing the vote now. Mine’s a yes. If the guy can make you smile, then that’s all the work he needs to do.”

Steve nodded, “Thanks Sam. One vote for yes. Anyone else.”

“Yes from me as well.” Bruce added. Steve saw the flash of a smile he aimed in Tony’s direction.

Clint took a bite of his sandwich, “Why not, your judgement hasn’t let us down yet.”

“Do you want to kill Rumlow?” Thor asked, the question was directed at Tony.

Steve watched him shuffle into the room a little more, to look at Thor as he answered, “I don’t want him selling weapons. If my father is working for him then he’ll still be able to get his hands on some pretty lethal stuff. I’m a Stark, I feel like that responsibility is on me somehow. I don’t want to see any of you go to jail either,” Tony continued, eyes locked with Steve’s now, “So, if the question you’re really asking me is if I’m loyal to The Avengers, then, yes I am.”

Thor hummed, “I like him. I vote yes.”

Steve beamed, unable to help himself, eyes turning to Natasha where she was perched on the chair of Thor’s chair, “Nat?”

“You really need me to answer?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, “You deserve something good Steve, if you trust him then I trust him. Yes.”

Bucky was silent in the room, standing near the window looking at his feet. Steve’s eyes went to him now, he was the last to cast his vote and Steve was worried by his omission from the group discussion.

“Buck?” He tried, dropping his head a little to try and catch Bucky’s eye.

Bucky lifted his head, “I’m sorry Steve, I think you’ve lost your goddamn mind. With everything we are up against right now, I can’t give you the answer you want to hear, Punk. I vote no.”

The room fell silent, the awkwardness in the air settling like a thick layer of snow around them. Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bucky, trying to understand, trying to communicate something to him. Anything. When had this rift between them opened up?

Bucky held his gaze for a second longer and then he was gone, slipping deftly out of the room, barely breezing past Tony in his haste to leave. Steve could hear his feet on the stairs, heavy thuds that got duller as they climbed.

He was moving as well, heading after his best friend and right-hand man. He squeezed Tony’s shoulder on the way past, “I’m sorry.” He muttered to the mechanic as he left the room, following Bucky up the stairs.

The silence afterwards was just as bad, the awkward tension that no one knew how to break. Tony shifted his feet, “Well, I guess I made an impression?”

He saw Sam smirk a little out of the corner of his mouth and Tony felt himself ease slightly.

Natasha was on her feet, heading over to him with a bounce in her step, “You look like you could use a coffee.”

“God, yes please.” Tony replied, if only to be able to escape the room and pretend to ignore the raised voices from upstairs.

Natasha led him into the kitchen, bustling around the room with the grace of a dancer as she filled the coffee pot and set out finding a whole heap of mugs. Tony stood by the kitchen table, unsure if he should help or stay out of the way.

“It’s not about you.” Natasha told him over her shoulder, “Their fight.”

Tony sighed, “Feels like it is. I don’t want to be the guy that comes between a family. Especially with everything you guys have going on.”

“You’re not.” Natasha replied, “In all the time I’ve known Steve, do you know how many people he’s seriously dated? How many he brought to meet us?”

Tony watched as she spooned some sugar into four of the six mugs with a practised skill, “No?”

“Just you.” She flashed her eyes up to look at him now, “In all those years. Just you. That means something to him. You mean something to him. He doesn’t do this normally; he’s had nights of course but never anything he contemplated enough to make a go of things with.”

The beeper of the coffee pot sounded, and Natasha was back to her work, Tony could smell the coffee as it hit his nose, “Is that why Bucky’s angry? He thinks Steve is making a mistake?”

“Bucky has known Steve longer than any of us. He always used to say that he felt it was his job to protect Steve. When they were kids, in the army, especially now.” Natasha sighed, “If Steve gets hurts then he thinks it’s on him. He wasn’t quick enough; he should have talked Steve out of it.”

Tony swallowed them lump in his throat, “Were they ever…?”

Natasha laughed, high and soft and offering him one of the mugs, “No. I’m more Bucky’s type than Steve is.”

“Right.” Tony found himself breathing easily, he grabbed the mug from her hands, letting the steam curl into the air, “So, he thinks he should have talked Steve out of getting involved with me?”

“He thinks he should have considered that one day Steve might want something outside of being the mob boss he is.” Natasha said, taking a sip of her own mug, “He’s worried Steve won’t have his head in the game if he’s too worried about how this job might affect you.”

“So, if I was a gang member…”

Natasha nodded, “He’d probably take it better. You don’t know what it’s like to have to kill someone because it’s you or them, Tony. That’s what Bucky’s worried about. He doesn’t want you to judge Steve because of the things he’s done or try and change him when there’s a turf war going on.”

“I wouldn’t,” Tony sighed, “I know who he is, okay? I knew going into this thing how dangerous Steve is and the rumours about what he’s done. I’m still here.”

“Exactly, Bucky will warm up to you when he realises you’re here for Steve just like the rest of us.”

Tony took a sip of his coffee, bitter and sweet on his tongue. The voices had quietened down from the floor above now and Tony found himself relieved that they were no longer fighting because of him. He caught sight of the design on the mug in his hands and raised his eyebrow. The words ‘The Boss’ were written in all black capital letters across the china.

Natasha smirked, “It’s Steve’s. Sam brought it as a Christmas present last year as a joke. He uses it every day.”

“Of course, he does.” Tony smiled and took another sip.

“That’s just Steve though,” Natasha said wistfully, “In his office upstairs he still has a baseball from a game him and Sam snuck into a week before they shipped out. He took me to a ballet show once for my birthday because he knew I loved it even though he had no idea what was happening, I have the ticket stub on my wall upstairs. Steve keeps his in a box in his desk draw along with Bucky’s army pin and a couple of other bits from the team.”

Tony nodded, “He built this family from the ground up, right?”

“This family built him from the ground up as well.” Natasha replied, “He was so lost after Afghanistan, Bucky said it got pretty bad before they got into the gang stuff. He likes the reminders of good things, like he’s trying to hold onto the moments in his life where he feels like he deserves them.”

“You care about him a lot.” Tony commented with a smile, happy to see Steve had this. This family, these people. And now, he also had Tony.

Natasha smiled, “He saved me. He didn’t have to; he didn’t even know me but that’s just what Steve does. When a situation’s pointed south, he can’t walk away. I was fifteen, eating out of dumpsters. Clint and I were stealing what we had to so we could get by.” She paused slightly, steeling herself to continue, “We made a name for ourselves as guns for hire. It was good money; it was easy work for us. Then Steve came along, we were fixing him up to be our next mark, but he got the jump on me. He gave me a different choice. He said he was putting together a gang, wanted me and Clint in on it. Food, a home, we got to decide where we drew the line, what jobs we took. He just needed our loyalty, our word that we wouldn’t sell him out.”

Tony nodded, “He trusted you.”

“I don’t know why, he barely knew us, but we agreed.” Natasha continued, “I got this family. I got this home. Bucky. I’ll never be able to repay him for that but if you make him happy then I’ll do everything I can to make sure he stays that way. He’s been adrift for too long.”

“So, you and Bucky are together?” Tony asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

Natasha squared her shoulders, “Not anymore. This life, it isn’t always easy. The stakes, the tension, the choices we have to make to protect ourselves. You’ll figure it out one day.”

“Figure what out?”

“What you’re willing to do to keep yourself alive, to keep your family together. What lines you’re willing to cross despite the fact that once you do cross them you can’t take them back.”

Tony shifted his feet, “You crossed a line with Bucky?”

“I made a choice I could live with.” Natasha replied, “It wasn’t something Bucky could live with. I can’t take it back now and even if I could, I don’t think I would. I did the right thing for me, even if he doesn’t see it that way.”

“I’m sorry, Natasha.”

She gave him a dry smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “Come on, I need to make sure they haven’t killed each other up there.”

Tony knew they were done talking about it and didn’t press the issue. He grabbed a couple mugs in his hands whilst Natasha skilfully grabbed the rest and followed her out into the living room to distribute the coffee to the rest of the rag-tag family Tony had all but stumbled into.

/

“What the hell was that?” Steve demanded, hot on Bucky’s heels as he pushed his way into the bedroom Bucky had just entered.

He was seething, and Bucky’s own rage curled about his shoulders almost making him double in size. He was pacing madly, dodging the abandoned dirty clothes on the floor and the empty glasses that hadn’t found their way to the kitchen yet. Steve took a moment to take in the state of the room. Bucky was never the cleanest person, even in the army his bunk looked like a storm had hit it, but this was something else. The unmade bed where the pillows had been thrown to the floor, the dirty glasses and mugs on every surface. How was Bucky not drowning in this stuff? Steve stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. He felt a rumple of paper under his boot and looked down to see an old photograph of Bucky and Natasha, taken at Falcon’s on New Year’s Eve last year. Once it was stuck up next to the desk Bucky kept in the corner of the room, now it lay abandoned in the chaos of his room like it was simply another thing he was choosing to ignore.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sneered, “What the hell was that?”

Steve felt himself bristle at Bucky’s tone, the anger was shallow but there was something behind it that wasn’t, “You want to talk to me? Or do we need to head to the basement to spar it out?”

“You want to talk? Let’s talk about how you suddenly decided to make your current infatuation part of the team.”

“Don’t call him that.” Steve warned, “I know you’re worried about Hydra, Buck. I am too but Tony isn’t the problem here and you know it.”

Bucky scoffed, “Do you hear yourself? You’ve got a turf war and a manhunt coming after you and your biggest concern is whether we’ll like your new boyfriend? Come on, Steve, get your head in the game or we’re all dead.”

Steve sighed, trying to keep his anger in check as he placed his hands on his hips, “You think I don’t know that? I asked you to take the immunity deals, didn’t I? I told you to stay out of it when I went to get Tony. If you think my main concern isn’t this family…”

“Is it?” Bucky demanded, “Or is it him?”

“You’ve never cared about who I see before.”

“Because you don’t see anyone, Steve.” Bucky replied, “You have one-night stands. You get it out of your system and then you come home. What is it about this one that you can’t let go of? Is he that much of a good fuck? His father is Hydra for fuck sake. He’s probably working for them too.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, “He isn’t. I trust him, okay? And all I’m asking in return is that you trust me.”

“I saw the way you looked at him downstairs. That wasn’t The Captain. That was Steve Rogers. It was the same look you used to have whenever Peggy walked down the block when we were kids.”

“So that’s it? You think he makes me weak?” Steve asked.

Bucky sighed, “I think he makes you want to be someone else. Someone who died in the desert years ago. I think he’s going to get you killed.”

Steve paused, willing his mouth to work around his dry throat at the fear in Bucky’s voice as he said the last sentence, “Buck…”

“No, it’s my job to protect you. I promised your mom I would. I did in Afghanistan. I did on the streets. I will now.” Bucky replied, “I can’t lose you too.”

Steve nodded, “So, this is about Nat then.”

“This family, our family, is falling apart. We’re looking at death or jail as the best case scenario and you don’t even seem concerned about how we’re all going to get through this.”

“Don’t.” Steve replied, “Don’t tell me I’m not worried about what’s going to happen. I’ve tried everything I can to get you guys out of this. I’ve made deals with cops, I tried to push Tony away, hell if I could make a deal that Rumlow only came after me then I would do it. For you. For this family. So, don’t you fucking dare tell me I don’t care about what’s happening here.”

Bucky had the decency to look guilty, “Why him?”

“I don’t know.” Steve sighed, “I didn’t plan on it, Buck. You’re right, sometimes when I’m with him I forget about The Captain. I’m just plain old Steve Rogers except I don’t feel like I’m drowning. Isn’t that why you liked Nat, after Afghanistan she was the only person who made you feel like that.”

“Look how that turned out.”

Steve softened slightly, Bucky’s anger giving way to pain, “We’ll deal with Hydra. We’ll handle the cops. That’s my focus. I promise you. But this thing with Tony, it isn’t up for negotiation. I don’t need your approval, but I would like your support.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I know.” Steve said, “But you got to let me make my own mistakes. I could be happy with him. I am happy with him. I’m not sure where it will go, if anywhere but he knows who I am and he’s still here.”

Bucky sighed, “I’m still not voting for him.”

Steve nodded, “Okay. That’s okay. Can you just trust me on this? I wouldn’t bring him back here if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay.” Bucky bit out, “I trust you. I always trust you.”

There was something about Bucky in that moment, so vulnerable and open that Steve couldn’t remember last seeing. When they were kids maybe? Before Afghanistan that was for sure. This was a side of Bucky that Natasha normally dealt with, but Natasha wasn’t there anymore. Even now, the distance between them despite being in the same house felt like miles. Steve could see it eating away at Bucky, and it broke his heart to see his best friend struggle so much.

He was wrapping his arms around Bucky in a second, his hold firm despite Bucky’s protests to shrug him off. Steve held him tighter, waiting until Bucky admitted defeat and deflated against him. His arms came up to grip at the back of Steve’s shirt and Steve almost thought he felt him shudder against his frame with the effort of keeping himself together.

Bucky stayed there, taking comfort in their silence. He didn’t cry or speak or do anything more than stand there and grip Steve’s shirt like he used to when they first enlisted together, fresh faced and eager to protect their country.

“It’s going to be okay, Buck.” Steve told him; an echo of the reassurance Steve used to give him whilst they were deployed. Bucky didn’t respond but didn’t pull away either and Steve wondered whether he was talking about Tony, Natasha or the mess with Hydra.

The sound of his phone was too loud in the quiet space, a bump back to reality that had Bucky pulling back and squaring his shoulders and Steve digging into the pocket of his jeans for his phone.

“Hello?” He answered with the phone to his ear, Bucky was watching him with questioning eyes.

“It’s Fury. Ross is in town.”

Steve felt his gut clench, “Let me put you on speaker.”

He clicked the button and held the phone out between him and Bucky like an offering. Bucky stepped closer as if to hear better.

“I said Ross is in town.” Fury repeated, “He arrived this morning and started shaking up the whole station. Replacing people he thought might be on your payroll or Hydra’s. He assembled his own team for this within an hour. This is the last call you’re going to get from me. You’re on your own now.”

Steve frowned, “Does he suspect you?”

“No, and as long as we aren’t in contact, he won’t.” Fury replied, “I can cover my own ass. Yours, however, is in the fire.”

“I had to get Tony out, it was my call.” Steve told him.

Fury paused and dropped his voice lower, “Your call burned down a shipment yard and killed over twenty people.”

“Gang members.” Steve corrected.

“Ross doesn’t care.” Fury replied, “He’s out for blood. As far as he’s concerned you and Rumlow are the same now. The same kind of threat, he’s brutal. He’s already reassigned Rhodes to his unit.”

Steve nodded, “What’s his plan?”

“Put names to faces. As soon as he figures out who The Captain is, he’ll come for you. He has the arrest warrant on his desk, just needs a name at the top.”

“Mine.” Steve’s eyes flashed to Bucky.

“I don’t know if there’s a way out of this one, Steve.”

“If there is, I’ll find it.” Steve replied gently, “I need to focus on Hydra. If I can get Rumlow to slip up, if I can get Ross to focus his energy there first then I’ll have time to come up with something.”

“I can try and steer him that way, but he isn’t just going to forget about you.” Fury told him.

Steve held the phone tighter, “I know. I just need time. Hydra’s making bombs, we have to stop it.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Fury replied, “Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” Steve replied before hanging up.

Bucky was still watching him and suddenly their argument felt so small and stupid when faced with the bigger threat to their family. In his mind, Steve had the start of a plan. A way for The Captain and his team to disappear, create a false identity of who The Captain really was. He could even have T’Challa confirm it as a member of congress, a legitimate figure of truth and authority. Ross would have to believe it. But first, he had to deal with Rumlow because Ross’ manhunt wouldn’t matter either way if Rumlow killed him first.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut!

Steve was starting to dread it every time an envelope was delivered to his doorstep. The note from Fury had brought him nothing but trouble, even the immunity deals with their plain brown envelope were a waste of his time and effort. So now, as Steve stood in the hallway with a white envelope resting in his hand, he couldn’t help but wonder what fresh hell it would bring him. ‘The Captain’ was written across the front in calligraphy and it was jarring to see such a name written so beautifully.

Steve tore into the envelope, sliding out the small card from inside and reading its contents. He was right to dread it that was for sure.

_The Captain is cordially invited by the office of Congressman T’Challa to the Re-election Campaign being held in the Congressman’s honour this Saturday at 7pm. _

_T’Challa requests black tie and that all proceeds go to charity. _

T’Challa’s re-election gala. He held one every four years, whenever there was an election, or he was looking to advance his position. Steve knew he had told T’Challa he would be here; he had promised when T’Challa had help get Clint out of police custody, but he couldn’t fathom going now. He had Rumlow to deal with and Ross was likely watching his every move. This was too public, too important to T’Challa’s future.

Steve had gone to all of them in the past, at T’Challa’s insistence. He had charmed and persuaded his way into getting T’Challa the votes he needed to be able to make a difference in this city. A city they both loved and grew up in. Steve could remember the boy he was, all scabbed knees and bright eyes. A boy who was going to make a difference in the world. Then he had left for college, specialised in politics and realised just how hard that was to do. Steve chose to help Brooklyn with his fists, T’Challa chose to help by talking. They were still working towards the same goal and despite how different their lives had turned out; they had never lost respect for each other.

That’s what comes from growing up on the poor streets, a sense of looking out for the little guy that you just can’t lose. T’Challa had once stolen money from his father to give to Steve so he could take his mom to hospital. She had still died but he had never forgotten the lengths T’Challa had gone to, then just a boy of sixteen, to make sure Steve’s mom had the best chance of survival.

Steve dug his phone out of his pocket and sent off a text to his old friend.

**I can’t accept the invitation. There’s too much heat on me right now, it would damage your campaign. **

T’Challa’s reply was instant and left no room for argument.

**What will hurt my campaign is if I lose the majority vote. I need your help on this one. Hammer is going to be there, and he’ll do anything to make sure I lose. **

Steve sighed to himself, reading over the letter again. T’Challa was right about Hammer, he was ruthless when it came to business and he wasn’t above hefty payouts to swing the vote in his favour. He was also scared shitless of Steve.

**Can I bring a plus one?**

Steve bit his lip as he waited for a reply, watching the three little dots appear on the message.

**I’ll add it to the list. Black tie, that tux from last year! You may need to charm Congresswoman Hill. **

Steve sent back his confirmation to wear the tux he had brought last year for a similar one of T’Challa’s events before shoving the invitation in his back pocket and heading out the door.

Tony was at the garage, putting in the hours he missed whilst the whole Hydra mess was going down. Steve wanted to send someone with him but he refused, in no polite terms, because he was a mechanic and this was his day job.

So, when Steve arrived at the garage to see Tony with his head under the bonnet of a car and a younger lad he could only guess was Peter flicking through some paperwork with a cat on his lap he wondered whether Tony would be happy to see him.

Peter saw him first, eyes growing wide as he took in Steve’s form. He knew who The Captain was, everyone in Brooklyn knew who The Captain was.

“Mr Stark?” Peter called out, not taking his eyes off Steve.

Tony mumbled around the screwdriver in his mouth, “Fuck, Pete, what did the report show from the oil levels?”

“Mr Stark.” Peter called again. Steve smiled at him, warm and friendly. It didn’t help put Peter at ease.

Tony sensing something was off, ducked out from underneath the car bonnet and pulled the screwdriver out of his mouth. He looked at Peter and then to Steve, wiping his hands on the rag.

“Peter, this is Cap.” Tony introduced, “Cap, Peter.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter.” Steve greeted.

Peter seemed to be struggling, unsure how to put the news reports of The Captain together with the polite man in front of him, “Good to meet you, sir.”

Steve smiled, “Cap is fine. Not a business call.”

Peter nodded, “Then why…”

“He’s here to see me.” Tony replied quickly, “Personal stuff, kid. Why don’t you and Ned go grab lunch?”

Peter looked unsure, “Okay,” He rose to his feet, Ned in his arms, “I’ll be back in ten.”

“Take your time. It’s fine.” Tony smiled.

Steve stood there awkwardly, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face. Peter slide past him to get to the door, “If you hurt him…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve told him, “Trust me.”

Peter nodded curtly, throwing Tony a look that suggested they would be talking about this later before he slipped out.

Tony sighed, tucking the rag back into his pocket as his eyes found Steve’s, “Well, that’s a conversation I’m not looking toward to. You checking up on me?”

Steve stepped closer, pulling the invitation out of his pocket, “I came to ask you on a date actually.”

“Excuse me?”

“A date? That’s what people do right? People still go on dates?” Steve teased, the smile on his face carefree.

Tony took the invite from his hands, “To a gala. Fancy.”

“T’Challa’s re-election campaign. I’m just there to scare some votes for him but it would be a lot less dreadful with you.” Steve replied.

Tony scoffed, “Less dreadful. Nice. Is this how you ask all of your dates out? It’s probably why you don’t get a second.”

Steve chuckled, “Will you, Tony Stark, with all your endearing sass and bedroom eyes, do me the honour of accompanying a no-good scoundrel like me to this gala as my date for the evening?”

Tony beamed, “Captain, it would be my pleasure.” He laughed, pulling Steve towards him, “Bedroom eyes?”

Steve’s arms went around his back, “Oh yeah, bedroom eyes.” He planted a kiss on Tony’s mouth for good measure.

“I don’t want Peter to walk in on us screwing.” Tony warned him.

Steve feinted shock, “Who said anything about screwing. I just came to ask you on a date because I’m a gentleman. Stop trying to seduce me.”

Tony laughed and slapped his arm playfully, “Don’t play the innocent.”

Steve kissed him again, “Do you have a suit?”

“Yeah, I can dig one out of my closet.” Tony replied.

“Good, I’ll pick you up at 6?”

Tony nodded, “Sounds good.”

/

The party was in full swing when they arrived, and Steve had to admit that T’Challa had done a good job. The room was lit softly, a yellow glow that made Tony’s skin look even more vibrant than before. It was a party for politicians though and the atmosphere was immediately brought down by the stifling feuds hidden behind fake smiles and glasses of wine. Steve saw it every year, the women who’d try to outdo each other with their dresses, each one more ruffed and ridiculous than the last. The men were worse, all laughter and sly smiles as they stabbed each other in the back in their minds. Steve had always wondered why they didn’t just punch each other outright, surely that was more civilised than this game of pretend they all seemed to take part in whilst actively hating it.

As he went to find T’Challa he felt Tony slip a hand from his and say something about getting drinks before heading in that direction. Steve nodded, alcohol and Tony would make this event so much better. Tony was dressed too distractingly tonight, a pressed three-piece suit in all black. It made his skin look tanner and his brown eyes sparkle and when Steve went to pick him up, he felt wholly inadequate in his traditional tux and bowtie. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was as tamed as possible, despite the fact one piece kept dislodging from behind his ear to hang over his forehead. Tony though, he was something else. His black tie and black shirt melting into the rest of his suit and Steve was almost tempted to skip tonight all together and push Tony back inside his apartment, removing his clothes one black layer at a time.

He’d turned the tables on the mechanic of course, when he brought him downstairs and ushered him into the same vintage car they had once fucked in. Tony’s blush as he slid into the passenger seat, no doubt remembering the last time he’d been there was beautiful, and Steve couldn’t resist squeezing his knee with a smirk as they pulled out.

T’Challa was mingling but was easy to spot, he always did manage to command the room. He beamed when he saw Steve, his conversation coming to a stop. Steve smiled back, watching the shock of T’Challa’s guests as The Captain stepped into their inner circle.

“Captain, thank you for accepting my invitation.” T’Challa greeted with a glass in hand.

Steve nodded, “Anything for a friend, Congressman.”

Their onlookers seemed to grow uncomfortable and quickly disappeared, leaving the two friends to their privacy.

T’Challa was holding back a laugh, “The look on their faces never gets old.”

“You’re using me for dramatic effect?” Steve asked lightly.

“If it gets me the votes.”

Steve nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, “How many votes do you need?”

“Twelve more to secure my seat. Focus on Everett, he’ll be an easy turn for you. Hill will be slightly harder, she’s stubborn but if we get her vote then we win the vote of her whole party and I’ll have the majority.” T’Challa told him, eyes on the guests as he spoke.

Steve scanned through the crowd as well, “I’ll get to work.”

“Thank you for doing this.” T’Challa told him, “It means a lot.”

“It’s what friends do, right?” Steve replied, “I’ll get you the votes.”

He disappeared into the crowd to find Tony, as much as he wanted to have a proper chat with T’Challa and talk about old times he knew this wasn’t the time. T’Challa couldn’t appear to be too friendly with The Captain at his own gala or it might cost him more votes than Steve could win. They needed to appear on talking terms, a silent statement that T’Challa would be able to reason with The Captain if needed but no so friendly as to suggest he was in his back pocket.

Steve found Tony immediately, eyes drawn to him over by the drinks table. He’d been cornered by one of the politicians in a designer suit and seemed to be faking his way through a conversation Steve was sure he didn’t want to have. He approached him, set on rescuing his date from being drawn into a political debate when he noticed who Tony was talking to. The hideous fake tan looked worse under the lights and his hands were a shade darker than his face. Justin Hammer. Tony’s voice was dry and bored.

“I’d love to pick your brain some time. Surely if we put our heads together, we could create something incredible.” Hammer was saying, eyes lighting up like Christmas. Was he flirting? Tony’s back was ramrod straight and Steve could tell by his shoulders he was uncomfortable.

Steve strode over, arm coming out to rest on Tony’s waist as he pressed in close to him, “Hammer, I see you’ve met my date.”

Hammer blanched comically, eyes darting from Steve to Tony and back again, “Your date?”

Steve’s hand slipped lower, palm on Tony’s ass in a streak of possessiveness that rose up suddenly. Tony didn’t show his shock at the move, but Hammer did, “Tony, you’ve met Justin Hammer I see.”

Tony nodded, “We’ve met before actually, he’s given my father a few research grants for the company in the past.”

Hammer laughed, “Anything to help developing minds. I’m all about the people.” He glanced at Steve again, “How did you two meet?”

“He’s for the people as well.” Tony told Hammer cockily.

Steve grinned, “Mind if I steal my fella back from you?” He slipped his hand back into Tony’s as he guided them away from Hammer standing frozen by the drinks table watching them leave.

Tony gripped his hand tighter as they weaved through people, “Thanks for the rescue. I can feel my braincells dying when I talk to that guy.”

Steve chuckled, “Anytime.”

They worked the room together; Steve charmed his way through the politics talk with a practised ease. He had pretty good knowledge on that front, being both a soldier and a mob boss helped him navigate both sides of the argument and keep him informed of developments that might sway a politician either way. Tony was a natural too, all those years at business functions for Stark industries meant he could charm with the best of them and Steve found himself simply watching Tony work. He’d even managed to get Hill, Steve’s biggest worry of the evening. Tony had her eating out of the palm of his hand and when Steve proposed backing T’Challa it was Tony that managed that last little push to secure her vote. It was exhilarating watching him like this, marvelling at how seamlessly they worked together.

The mob boss and the mechanic, how would have thought it?

They were talking to a diplomat and his wife when Steve noticed something out of the corner of his eye that wasn’t quite right. The wife was telling a story about their home décor construction and Tony was responding in all the right places, but Steve’s attention was on the man at the back of the hall, near the exit. He was tall, sandy hair and a pressed grey suit. Pierce. Steve knew that face, he’d been to a meeting with Sitwell before. Hydra. Steve frowned, excusing himself from the conversation with a hand on Tony’s elbow to say he’d be back and then he was moving. Why would Hydra be here? They didn’t normally have a hand in politics. Pierce was definitely mingling though, a phone in his hand as he excused himself from his present company and headed outside, typing on his phone.

Steve followed him, the cold night air hitting him suddenly against his tux. The snow was crunching under his shoes as he followed Pierce out into the night.

“What’s Hydra doing in a nice place like this?” Steve called out after scanning the car park to make sure they were alone, “Isn’t the gutter more your scene?”

Pierce froze for a second before spinning round with a smile in place, “Captain, it appears we travel in the same circle now.”

So, Hydra was looking into getting a few politicians under their belt. Rumlow was getting busy. He’d need them if he ever hoped to move bombs on the black market, “Rumlow’s upgrading, huh?”

“You burnt down our base, Captain.” Pierce replied, “You’re a marked man for that.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Pierce stepped forward, “Will you? Even with him?” He nodded towards the party and Steve knew he meant Tony, “What is it about a mechanic that appeals so much to you?”

Steve charged at him, Pierce wasn’t much of a fighter and he wasn’t expecting it. Steve grabbed him by the jacket, shoving him back against one of the cars to provide them with privacy should anyone come out. Pierce looked startled, dropping his phone in the snow at his feet as Steve held him firmly.

“Say another word about him, I dare you.” Steve snarled.

“Rumlow’s coming for you, Captain. I’m just the one who’s pulling the trigger, he’s the bullet.” Pierce bit out.

Steve shoved him to the ground, there was something satisfying about watching Pierce snivel around in the dirt. He leaned down, pulling the knife out of his shoe, Natasha had made him bring it when he refused to take a gun to T’Challa’s party. He was grateful she had.

“I know about the bombs. I know about Howard Stark. I’ll stop him before he gets the chance. Or maybe I’ll deliver him to the cops and see what they do to him.” Steve replied, crouched over Pierce in the snow.

Pierce laughed, “You still think you can win. How naïve of you.”

“What you should be concerning yourself with is how you’re going to pull that trigger without a hand.” Steve replied.

There was just enough time to see Pierce’s eyes grow wide before Steve brought the blade down on his wrist, it took three hacks as the knife was smaller than he’d normally use for this kind of work but the army had taught him well. He knew where to cut to remove a hand from someone’s body. Pierce screamed so loud Steve had to shove his arm against him mouth to muffle the sounds. This wouldn’t be a good type of evening entertainment for T’Challa’s guests.

When it was done Pierce lay sweaty and pale on the ground, his hand a few centimetres away from his body. Blood was oozing out of the wound, marking the white snow red. The warmth of the liquid was melting the ice beneath it, making complex patterns as it spread wider beneath his arm.

“I’ll let you keep the other one.” Steve told him, removing his arm from Pierce’s mouth and wiping the blood from his knife onto Pierce’s suit, “You better hope you can crawl better than you can threaten because otherwise you’re going to bleed out here in the snow like a pathetic shit.”

Pierce gurled, trying to say something but he didn’t manage to form the words. Steve nodded, tucking the knife back in place and grabbing the phone Pierce had dropped earlier. He tucked it into his pocket to look at later. Then he stood up, smoothing out his jacket and running a hand through his hair as he looked down at Pierce, still groaning on the floor. A thick plume of red against the stark white snow.

“You have a nice night, Mr Pierce.” Steve smirked before turning on his heel and heading back inside to find Tony.

As it turned out, Tony found him. Steve had just walked back inside when he spotted Tony walking towards him. He slowed down in front of him, suddenly shy which caused Steve to frown. Had Tony seen?

Tony smiled then, “Dance with me?” He asked, voice soft and unsure.

“I don’t dance.” Steve replied although he was smiling now too, he looked over Tony’s shoulder to see into the sea of guests. Everyone was dancing now; a band had set up in the corner. Even T’Challa was spinning Hill around the dancefloor to a soft melody.

“For me?” Tony asked and this time his smile grew. Steve mentally swore, Tony was playing dirty.

Steve sighed, holding his hand and pulling Tony in closer. They settled into it. Tony’s hand in his, the other one on Steve’s shoulder as Steve’s rested on his waist. They were closer than they needed to be, moving slowly in tight circles. Tony’s eyes were on his, soft and brown and happy.

“You know there’s a perfectly good dance floor in the other room.” Tony replied as they turned gently.

Steve smiled, “I don’t care about them.”

This was better. This little private moment as they danced in the hallway away from prying eyes. It was more intimate like this, without the world watching. It was just them. Tony hummed softly, the music coming through the corridor to guide them although neither was listening to it as they moved together. It wasn’t really dancing, there was no skill to it. They were simply holding each other and swaying but it was perfect. Steve could feel Tony’s heat, his mood was infectious.

Tony frowned suddenly, eyes dropping to the hand Steve held in his, “There’s blood on your sleeve.”

Steve looked down at it. There was blood staining his cuff, “There was a situation. I took care of it.”

“Did you kill anyone?” Tony asked in a whisper between them.

Steve shook his head, “No.”

“Hydra?” Tony asked because why else would Steve ruin his suit and their night together.

“I took care of it, I promise.” Steve told him, “I’m sorry I ruined the evening.”

Tony shook his head, “You didn’t.”

They kept dancing; Tony’s eyes barely glanced down at Steve’s sleeve again. Steve couldn’t stop thinking about it though. Was Tony disgusted? He was still here though. Was he really okay with it? Tony tucked his head into Steve’s shoulder then, bringing them closer together. Steve kept swaying not wanting to disrupt their bubble, his lips grazed Tony’s ear.

“Take me home?” Tony asked gently, lifting his head after another couple of minutes.

Steve nodded, pulling back. Of course, Tony had thought about it and it was too much, “I can drop you back, we’ll grab the car.”

Tony shook his head, “Your home, Steve.”

Oh. Oh.

“Yeah,” Steve stammered, “Okay, let’s go home.”

They headed out to the car together, Steve saw no signs of Pierce crawling across the car park though. No trails of red to show he was even there. Tony led the way; Steve couldn’t help but watch his every move looking for signs of repulsion or fear. He found none.

The sound of a phone from his pocket broke their pace. Steve frowned, pulling out the phone. It wasn’t his though. It was Pierce’s. The number didn’t have a name on the screen which mean it was a gang member. An untraceable burner phone.

He stopped, letting Tony carry on as he answered the phone and held it to his ear.

“Pierce, report.” The gruff voice at the end of the line greeted.

Steve narrowed his eyes, “Sorry, Pierce can’t come to the phone right now. He’s having trouble finding a hand. This is The Captain and I have one thing to say. Tell Rumlow his days are numbered.”

There was a pause at the other end, even Tony had stopped walking. Stood next to the car with his hands in his pockets, watching Steve with curious eyes.

“Consider the message received.” The reply came suddenly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain.”

Rumlow. He’s voice was gruffer, angrier than Steve could remember but it was him. The same husk to his speech unmistakable even over the phone.

Steve pressed the phone tighter to his ear, “Don’t get too used to running things around here. It won’t last long.”

“Well, like we say in the army: we take the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Rumlow replied, Steve could hear his smile.

“By pulling a gun on everyone in this city and calling it protection.” Steve accused.

It was the wrong thing to say. It was something he’d said before. An instant reaction whenever Rumlow would start saying his piece about the world. Steve would always contradict it; he’d always stand up against Rumlow in the army. They’d always come to blows over it.

It was the wrong move then and it was the wrong move now.

“Steve?” Rumlow’s voice asked, he seemed unsure like he was still remembering their army days in his mind. Steve froze. Fuck. He didn’t reply, couldn’t find the words. Rumlow continued though, “Steve Rogers? There’s only one person I know who’d be that much of a righteous ass and I thought he died in Afghanistan.”

Steve couldn’t speak, the fear rising within him. No way Rumlow would have recognised him from his voice and that sentence alone. No way.

Rumlow chuckled, “Well Steve, I hope you don’t mind dying again.”

Steve hung up the phone and let it drop between his fingers.

Fuck.

/

When they made it back to Steve’s place, he led Tony straight to his room. He had been quite on the drive home, his mind focused on Rumlow. Rumlow knew who Steve was. He’d come for him. It would be all over.

Tony closed the door behind them softly, glancing around Steve’s room with eager eyes. It was the first time he’d stayed over. Normally they stayed at Tony’s place, less people there. Steve was glad they were here though, if Rumlow was coming after him then he wanted Tony to be protected.

“Do you want me to go?” Tony asked softly when Steve hadn’t moved or spoken.

Steve snapped out of it at the sound of Tony’s worried voice. He glanced over at him, looking out of place amongst Steve’s things. “No, Tony, no. Stay, please. Sorry, I’m in my head. Hydra, Rumlow. I can’t switch it off.”

Coward. He should have told Tony everything. That Rumlow knew who he was. That they were fucked but he couldn’t. He wanted one more night like this. One more night with Tony so carefree and happy and with him. He wanted to be selfish for a little while longer.

Tony closed the gap between them, hands coming up to curve along Steve’s neck, “Maybe I can help with that? Get you out of your head?”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Steve reached for him, pulling Tony as close as he could. Drinking him in.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Tony kissed him softly, silencing any part of Steve that might have protested. Just tonight. Just this. He needed this. Before everything fell down around them and he had to bring another heap of worry to his family. This last good thing before the storm.

He pulled back when he felt Tony’s teeth scrape his lip, “I need to know what it will take for you to leave. To decide my lifestyle, me, is too much. I need to know where you draw the line, Tony.” Steve pleaded, “Whether it’s kidnapping you to get to me or me missing a date because I have to kill someone. I need to know what it will take for this to end.”

He needed to know how far Tony really wanted to go with this. Right now, before Rumlow came and it was too late for him to go back. Steve needed to know now, while he could still see a way for Tony to walk away.

Tony stood there in his arms, eyes confused. He didn’t respond.

Steve kept going, “I want it to work, with you. But I can’t and won’t make promises I can’t keep. If there are parts of myself you’d rather not see, that you don’t want me to bring back to you. You need to tell me now.”

Tony’s hands slipped to his shoulders, “If this is about the blood on your sleeve.”

Steve sighed, “I need you to say it, Tony. I need to hear it.”

“I’m all in.” Tony replied in the space between them, “I want all of you, Steve. Not just the nice bits. I want the messy ones as well. It’s all mine, okay? That’s what I choose. You want me to say it? Fine, I want all of it. I want to know everything, the good, the bad, the bloody. I want to be the one you come to when you’re stuck in your own head. I want to be the one you lean on for support instead of carrying it all on your shoulders. I want you.”

Steve was closing the gap between them in seconds. It was like he was sinking, drowning. His mouth and nose filling up with water and Tony was the only anchor left. Their mouths met furiously, Steve was taking and demanding, and Tony was giving it all up. Everything he needed was right there, in his hands and he was losing it faster than sand through his fingers.

Steve pulled at him desperately, there was too much space. Too much worry and anger and fear seeping into the cracks between them. Steve hated it. Not here, not with him. He sucked on Tony’s bottom lip; large hand splayed over Tony’s lower back.

More. More. More.

Rumlow could wait. The world could wait. The Captain could wait. Tony couldn’t. This couldn’t.

Tony pulled back when air became a requirement and Steve found it easier to breath with Tony’s eyes on him, but there was worry in them. He knew there was something Steve wasn’t saying, something he wasn’t ready to put between them. He didn’t poke at it though Steve knew he would eventually. Right now, Tony seemed to know it wasn’t what he needed.

Tony’s hands reached inside Steve’s jacket, pushing the formal wear from his shoulders so it could slide down his arms and hit the floor at his feet. Next, his fingers moved up to the bowtie Steve had handsomely been sporting all night, deftly working on unknotting it, knuckles brushing against Steve’s throat every so often.

“What was that earlier tonight? That hand on my ass whilst we were talking to Hammer.” Tony asked him softly, eyes fixed on the task at hand. He was changing the subject, Steve jumped on it.

Steve frowned slightly, brows furrowing together as his hands came up to rest of Tony’s waist, “Instinct?” He offered with a small smile.

“Instinct?” Tony echoed, the silky material of Steve’s bowtie loose and hanging down either side of his neck for Tony to grab in either hand, “A possessive instinct? You were claiming me, weren’t you? Telling Hammer and everyone else there tonight that I was with you.”

“Tony…”

Tony cut his off firmly, fusing his lips with Steve’s. He had been turned on since that moment, a thrill at seeing Steve be so possessive over him. There was something in that, the need for Steve to let the world know that Tony was his. Tony found his cock stirring in his pants again at the thought.

He shoved at Steve’s chest firmly, breaking their kiss and catching Steve off guard with the move so that he flopped down on the bed behind him, body bouncing against the plush material. Tony stood over him with a wicked grin, he liked this.

He popped the button on his own jacket, shrugging out of it quickly before doing the same with his waistcoat. They both ended up in a heap on the floor, but Tony’s only focus was on the way Steve was watching him from the bed. He was getting turned on by seeing Tony turned on.

“You like it, don’t you?” Steve asked from the bed, voice rougher than before as he watched Tony toe off his shoes, “You liked everyone knowing that you’re mine just as much as you like knowing I’m yours.”

Tony approached the bed then, slowly climbing onto it by Steve’s feet, allowing the mob boss to shuffle backwards until his head hit the pillow and Tony joined him. He threw a leg over Steve’s hips, climbing into his lap. Steve was half-hard underneath him, a smirk on his face as Tony settled himself over him.

“I like having you like this.” Tony replied, hands reaching out for Steve’s own, pinning his arms on either side of him above his head, “Not many people get to see you like this.”

“No one gets to see me like this.” Steve said.

“Except me.”

Steve smiled then, hands squeezing Tony’s, “Except you.”

“I want to try something,” Tony started, eyes on Steve, “I want this to be about you.”

“It’s about us.”

Tony nodded, “But you always make sure I cum first.” He rolled his hips against Steve’s for emphasis, “You always take care of me first. I want to do that for you.”

Steve’s eyes soften, “You can try whatever you want, Tony. I trust you.”

Tony smiled then, leaning down to give Steve a quick kiss before pulling back. His fingers left Steve’s hand, tugging at the loose bow tie around Steve’s neck until he got the material free.

He had always been good with his hands, nimble fingers of a mechanic and so it took him no time at all to have one end of the bow tie fastened to the headboard of Steve’s bed and the other wrapped around his wrist.

“Tony…” Steve’s voice was curious when he felt Tony tie the knot around his wrist, realising what Tony had in mind.

“Is this okay?” Tony asked, “It’s not too tight?”

“It’s fine,” Steve replied, “I’m just not…”

Tony tugged at the tie, Steve’s arm flexed above him in a delicious display of muscle, “Trust me, you’ll enjoy this. If you don’t just tell me, okay?”

Steve nodded, “All this from me putting my hand on your ass in public?”

“You need to learn to let go sometimes, darling.” Tony replied, “You’ll always too tense.”

Steve chuckled then, watching as Tony unknotted his own tie and used it to tie Steve’s other wrist to the headboard behind him. Steve let him do it, tested out the restraint when Tony had finished to make sure it was secure enough.

Tony sat back for a moment to appreciate the view, Steve spread out underneath him, white dress shirt rumpled and rising up to show off a section of his stomach. All that corded muscle and strength completely at Tony’s mercy like a well-oiled car engine tuned to his administrations. And Steve thought Tony was the gorgeous one.

His blue eyes had turned dark, the bulge in his pants a lot bigger than before and even while he was tied to the bed Steve was still tracking his every move like a lion would a deer. It made Tony shiver delightfully.

“I can’t kiss you like this.” Steve said after a moment, pulling at his ties again as if they might have a little more give in them.

Tony smiled, leaning down so his lips were inches away, “You’re not in charge, Captain. I am.” He placed his mouth against Steve’s, smiling into their kiss when Steve tried to give it everything he could to keep Tony there. The wet swipe of his tongue against Tony’s lips, the way he bit down on his bottom lip when Tony tried to pull back to keep him there a little longer.

Steve let his head fall back to the pillow when Tony moved out of reach, “You’re a fucking tease.” He groaned.

Tony’s hands started on the buttons of Steve’s shirt, opening each one slowly to expose a new piece of skin to him. Tony’s mouth followed his fingers, lips grazed over Steve’s warm skin, over each valley and peak of his chest and abs. Steve was tense underneath him, not used to having all this attention on him without being able to give back. That was good, Tony wanted him to focus on this feeling.

He opened the last button, pushing the shirt open as much as he could to reveal Steve’s chest to him, he couldn’t take it off properly while Steve was tied to the bed but for now this would do. Steve was a masterpiece, sculpted by gods and to be marvelled at by men. Tony couldn’t help the way his hands spanned over his skin, fingers mapping out the lines of his chest and circling over the scars the made him who he was. The graze by his ribs from the bullet on his left side that left a ragged line on his side that Tony simple had to taste with his tongue.

Steve groaned, body straining underneath Tony as he swirled his tongue over it. Steve really seemed to like his tongue. Tony could work with that. His mouth moved over to Steve’s nipple, closing his lips round the bud as he flicked his tongue over it once, twice, a third time. The erection pressing into him was evidence enough that Steve was enjoying this.

Tony sucked hard against his nipple, feeling Steve buck up against him feebly trying to get some friction.

“Fuck, Tony.” He gasped from his place on the pillows, hands tugging at the ties like he momentarily forgot that he couldn’t reach out and grab the mechanic like he clearly wanted to.

Tony released the nipple with a wet pop, lips moving across the valley of his pectoral before heading downwards, following the natural line of Steve’s abs. There was so much skin under his lips and Tony relished the feeling of Steve’s muscles jumping whenever Tony darted his tongue out to taste him as he went.

He stopped when he got to Steve’s belly button, feeling the mob boss taunt like a string under his mouth. He gave the skin a teasing nip before soothing it with his tongue and he heard Steve test the restraint again with a triumphant smile that he hid into Steve’s skin.

He continued downwards, licking a line from the bottom of Steve’s belly button to the edge of his smart black dress pants. His mouth latched on to the soft skin there, near his hip and Tony worked on sucking a mark against it.

Steve groaned underneath him, bucking his hips up against Tony’s as he panted at Tony’s administrations, “Tony.”

Tony unbuckled the belt holding his trousers in place, releasing his mouth from Steve’s skin so he could work on getting rid of the trousers, his boxers and his shoes. When Tony was done and the clothing was in the growing pile on the floor, he watched as Steve’s cock stood proudly against his stomach, the red patch of skin he’d sucked a bruise into gleaming under the light.

He parted Steve’s legs a little more, slotting himself in between them so he was lying down, his own erection pressing into the mattress and he brought himself level with Steve’s cock. Steve lifted his head up despite the restraints, watching Tony with lidded eyes that looked like they wanted nothing more than to fuck him.

Tony smirked, making a show of breathing hot air over Steve’s dick just to watch it twitch at the sensation before he ran his tongue over the base. Steve’s head fell back, the moan escaping his lips was pure pleasure and Tony couldn’t help but do it again just to watch the way Steve shook against the restraints.

“Fuck.” Steve swore and Tony had never heard him this vocal before, it sent pleasure pooling through him at the thought of Steve losing control over that as well.

He sunk his mouth down on Steve’s cock, taking him as far as he could. He enclosed Steve’s thick length in his mouth, making an ‘O’ shape with his lips and hollowing out his cheeks before moving his mouth up again.

Steve was panting, hands into fists against the ties. His eyes were screwed shut, hips stuttering against Tony mouth was he sunk back down on Steve’s cock, making sure to swallow around him.

Steve gave a small thrust into Tony’s mouth which had Tony pressing him own hips into the mattress to try and calm himself down. This was about Steve. He set a relentless fast pace though, Steve not having use of his hands was teasing enough and Tony desperately wanted to make him fall apart like this.

He bobbed his head up and down, mouth working on Steve’s cock until it hit the back of his throat and he had to pull out again. Tony loved seeing Steve this way, feeling him shake underneath him with the loss of control and the pleasure he was getting. He sped up his pace, tongue flat against Steve’s cock as he took him back into his mouth again.

“Tony, fuck, you feel so good.” Steve groaned, “I need to feel you, I need to kiss you. Fuck.”

Tony hummed against his cock, the vibrations sending pleasure straight through Steve and had him tugging at his restraints with so much force than the headboard creaked in protest. Tony continued fucking Steve with his mouth, swallowing around his length like he was gulping down a glass of water just to watch the way Steve jerked his hips uselessly and arched his back off the bed a little to seek out more friction.

Tony’s hands gripped at his hips, keeping him against the mattress as he slid his tongue over the head of Steve’s cock before taking him back into his mouth. He repeated the action over and over again, withdrawing and swirling his tongue over the tip of Steve’s cock just the way that drove him mad before sinking back in again until Tony couldn’t take him anymore.

Steve was close. His whole body was humming, and he was still shaking from the strain he was putting on the restraints. Tony thought he might have heard the material stretch at one point, the seams giving way under Steve’s muscle, but they held him firm and all Steve could do was gasp his way to his orgasm.

Tony wasn’t done yet though, taking Steve back in again he sucked. Closing his mouth over his cock before sucking like he was a lollypop in the middle of July. Steve’s reaction was instant, his hips bucked despite Tony’s grip on them. His face lifted off the bed to watch Tony swallow him down and his whole body arched at the sensation.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna cum.” Steve groaned out, “I’m gonna…”

His cum hit the back of Tony’s throat, warm thick streams that he swallowed down despite the salty taste. Tony sucked him dry, leaving Steve a quivering mess on the mattress and having to shallowly thrust his hips against the sheets to search for some friction. He had wanted to see Steve come undone like this, he knew Steve would be primal like that, but he hadn’t thought about just how much this would turn him on.

Tony released him gently, one last flick of his tongue over the tip of Steve’s cock that caused him to jerk a little before Tony was sitting back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as Steve worked on regaining his breath.

“Take your pants off, now.” Steve ordered in a tone that was all the Captain and sent a bolt of pleasure straight to Tony’s dick. Even tied up he was still calling the shots to make this good for both of them.

Tony did as instructed, wiggling out of his pants and boxers. His erection was already leaking precome, making him shiver at the cooler air hitting his oversensitive flesh. He settled himself over Steve’s crotch, straddling him as his hands reached out to his pecs.

Steve groaned at the feeling of their dicks moving together, his only half hard from his orgasm and Tony’s rock solid and begging for attention.

“I need to fuck you, Tony.” Steve told him, “I need to make you cum.”

Tony rolled his hips at the statement, leaning down to kiss Steve then. It was deep and dirty, Steve’s tongue invading his mouth and thrusting in and out in a way Tony knew he’d do with his dick inside him. He lost himself in the kiss, letting his hips buck against Steve’s as he ground his erection against him wantonly.

His gut was nothing but heat and desire, his brain foggy to anything feel but the way Steve made him feel, “Not yet.” Tony told him, pulling back with his hands on Steve’s chest, “Still my show.”

Steve groaned, “I’ll make you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Tony rolled his hips again, a little gasp escaping his mouth at the build up of friction, “You already are.”

He was moving against Steve properly then, no more little teasing rolls of his hips. Tony let himself enjoy the feeling of full on rutting against Steve, those hard lines and hot skin against his cock as he bucked his hips against him.

Steve let out a hiss when Tony’s rutting made his oversensitive cock a little painful. He gently moved his legs slightly, encouraging Tony to shift so he was rutting against his thigh instead. Tony went willingly, using the thick hard muscle as he bucked his hips against Steve’s skin, biting his lip.

He peered up at Steve through his eyelashes, the prickling pleasure pooling in his gut. Steve was watching him, dark lust filled eyes and a heaving torso.

“Go on,” Steve told him, “Take what you need.”

Tony needed no further encourage, picking up his pace a little. He moved his hands down to Steve’s stomach, using them for balance as he rolled his hips and rutted against him faster. Tony was grinding against Steve’s thigh with everything he had, panting his way through the feeling of his mounting pleasure and the image of Steve watching him, wrists pulling at his ties in an attempt to get closer.

Tony was beyond everything, trapped in a chase for his own pleasure. A dull ache that refused to be ignored and grew every time Tony ground his hips against Steve. Steve was getting hard again just watching Tony get himself off like this, his cock awakening at the sound of Tony’s pleasure and the image of him seeking it out.

“The first time we had sex, I told you I thought you could cum like this. That was how much you wanted me.” Steve bit out as Tony continued to rut against him, “Let me see it.”

Tony whined, pushing his hips harder into Steve as he sped up his pace again. His hips were stuttering, and Steve could tell he was having trouble keeping a rhythm now, he was blindly grasping for the edge. He was falling short.

Steve swallowed thickly, “Come on, gorgeous. Imagine me fucking you, my hands on your body. My mouth sucking at your neck right now. Think about how it will feel when you come around me, my cock inside you.”

Tony let out a frustrated whine, hips rutting against him in such a brutal pace Steve wouldn’t be surprised to have bruising on his thigh tomorrow. His hands tested the restraints again, if he could get free then he could make Tony come but that wasn’t the purpose of the exercise he knew. Tony wanted him to watch, to see him coming apart and knowing Steve was all he was thinking about. This was about proving that he was Steve’s.

“I can’t…” Tony panted, “Fuck, Steve.”

Steve was shaking with the effort not to rip the material of the ties right off and throw Tony down until he was fucking him to the point he couldn’t remember his own name. Tony’s hips were grinding against him, desperately seeking more friction.

“Yes, you can.” Steve swallowed dryly, “Touch yourself for me. The way I would touch you. Spread yourself open, nice and wide. You’re going to cum for me, Tony and then I’m going to fuck you, so I need you prepared for me.”

Tony was preening at the words Steve said so he knew they were working. Tony took one hand off his stomach, moving it to push his fingers against his own hole. Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep him from moaning as Tony slipped a finger inside himself. He didn’t have any lube so Steve knew it would be a difficult process, but Tony was moaning loudly as he worked his finger in and out of his heat and all Steve could do was watch.

Tony added a second finger to the first, rutting against Steve’s thigh and he fucked himself onto his fingers. Steve could imagine his tight walls and the way he’d need to scissor his fingers open inside of himself to open his body wide enough.

Tony was panting and sweating, and Steve knew he was close, his fingers were stretching him open and his cock was leaving a wetness against his thigh. His whole body was shaking as he watched Tony lose himself to his pleasure.

“Steve…”

It was his name from Tony’s lips. His name like a prayer, like a swear word, like a lighthouse calling him home, “Add another finger.” Steve told him.

Tony whimpered and added another finger, fucking himself open wider as his hips stuttered against Steve’s skin. Steve was rock hard now, he needed Tony to cum, he needed to be inside him.

“Steve…” That time it was more like a plea.

Steve tugged at the ties again, slipping his finger into the knot and pulling. It loosened enough for him to slip a hand out and then he was free to grab for Tony, other hand still tied to the bed. He thread his fingers into Tony’s hair, making Tony look at him with wide surprised eyes.

“Cum for me.” He ordered, bringing his lips to Tony’s despite the pressure the angle put on his still tied arm and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

Tony’s hips stuttered once, twice and then he was coming hard. His cum coated Steve’s thigh and he was shaking into Steve’s arm as he gasped into their kiss. He shuddered, rocking against Steve’s thigh to ride off the aftershocks of his orgasm and rested his head against him as he came down for the high.

“How did you get out?” Tony asked breathlessly, hand moving to tug the knot on the other tie to free Steve’s other hand.

His fingers were cold from the tie but as soon as he was free Steve curled both arms around Tony, holding him close and planting a kiss on his sweaty temple.

“Army training.” Steve replied, “They made us learn how to get out of knots and handcuffs whilst blindfolded and trapped in the boot of a moving vehicle for basic training.”

Tony chuckled, “You could have gotten free anytime you wanted to.”

“I didn’t want to spoil your fun.” Steve smirked.

“So, hurry up and fuck me, Captain.” Tony replied with a sly smile.

Steve laughed, “I think this power is going to your head.”

“You set up a very nice picture in my head whilst I was working myself open for you. Time to pay up.”

Steve nodded, “I intend to.”

He laid back down, making Tony follow him so he was sprawled out on Steve’s chest as Steve reached into the beside drawer for the condom and lube he kept there. He rolled Tony over was he was on his side, facing away from Steve before Steve turned to spoon him, pressing his front against Tony’s back.

“I thought you were going to fuck me, not cuddle me.” Tony quipped.

Steve flicked open the bottle of lube, pouring some onto his fingers, “Can’t a man do both?”

He moved his hand until he was pressing his fingers against Tony’s hole, dipping a digit slicked with lube inside him.

Tony huffed impatiently, shoving his ass back onto Steve finger, “I’m ready.”

Steve slipped in another finger, spreading the lube around as Tony moaned, “I know. I want you slicked up too.”

He slid in the third finger, the lube making it easier as well as the prep from Tony’s own fingers. Steve still took his time with this part, listening to the catch in Tony’s breath and savouring the way Tony pushed his hips back into Steve’s hand. He was eager and impatient for Steve’s cock and that made his balls tight and his cock jerk as he slid his hand out.

He opened the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling it onto his length before coating it in more lube. Tony would say he didn’t need it, but Steve knew he’d be even more sensitive in the morning without it. Steve lined his cock up with Tony’s hole, tip pushing against him gently as Steve slipped an arm under Tony’s body to cushion his head and placed a large hand on his hip to steady him.

“You want me?” Steve breathed into his ear, cock nudging his ass.

Tony wiggled, “Fuck, Steve, yes.”

“How much?”

“So much. Too much.” Tony panted, “I’d do anything for you. I’d kill you for, I’d lie for you, I’d let the world burn for you.”

Steve pushed the tip into Tony’s warmth, feeling him tense against him, “Tony…”

“Don’t stop.”

Steve squeezed his hip, “I’d die for you. I’d do anything to protect you. I’d set the world on fire for you if you asked.”

Tony reached up with his hand, tangling his fingers with Steve’s as he stretched it out underneath Tony’s head. Then Steve pushed into him hard, slamming in until he was buried to the hilt and Tony was panting. He had to bury his head into Tony’s shoulder just to keep himself together. He had damn near told Tony he loved him in that moment and that thought scared him more than he wanted to admit. That was a feeling he hadn’t come to terms with himself, let alone letting Tony about it.

Tony wiggled his ass against him again, “Fuck.”

Steve hummed against his shoulder, moving his hips back so he slid out of Tony’s heat before plunging back in again. This was good, this was home. Steve set the pace, using Tony’s hip for leverage as he pumped in and out of his hole, their skin slapping together at the contact.

Steve was breathing heavily into Tony’s ear, listening as Tony moaned at the feeling of Steve inside him and watching as he gripped the bedsheet was his free hand in order to ground himself.

“Tony.” Steve groaned into his ear, picking up his pace as he slammed his hips forward again. Tony whined in response, curling his hand tighter around Steve’s as Steve repeated the motion.

He was beyond hard, feeling his second orgasm building from the tightness of Tony’s walls around him. This position didn’t allow Steve to look at Tony whilst they had sex, something he loved to do. To watch the changes on his face from the pleasure but the angle did let him plunge in deeper and hold Tony closer as he did so, and Steve had to admit there was something oddly nice about it. The intimacy of it all as he thrust into Tony and wrapped him up in his arms.

Steve could feel himself getting more erratic, hips smacking into the curve of Tony’s ass as he increased his pace.

“Harder.” Tony pleaded, panting into the skin of Steve’s forearm.

Steve slammed his cock back in again, harder and faster. He turned slightly, moving Tony with him as Steve slipped a leg between his and Tony wrapped one of his around Steve’s calf. The angle let him go deeper and that let him go harder.

He was thrusting into Tony with a maddening pace, pure carnal passion fuelling him as they both worked towards their second orgasms of the night. Steve’s grip on his hip would leave bruises and Steve couldn’t even feel his other hand from how tight Tony was gripping it. They moved together, shuddering and pushing each other further towards the edge with each cant of their hips and every thrust.

“Tony, fuck.” Steve bit down on Tony’s shoulder, seeing spots in his vision as his pleasure teased him.

Tony moaned in response, the dull ache of his shoulder sending shivers down his spine. Steve wasn’t done yet, moving his hand from Tony’s hip to wrap around his cock.

Steve moved his fist quickly, jerking him off with the tight circle of his fingers and a flick of his wrist at the end of each stroke to get him there faster. Tony was babbling, Steve couldn’t make out words but he was shoving his ass firmly into Steve’s groin and gripping the bedsheet so tightly the corner had come away from the mattress.

Tony’s hips jerked against Steve’s fist, it was sudden and guttural when he came, spurts of his cum soaking into the sheets beneath him as his body clenched and wrung Steve’s orgasm out of him at the same time. Steve buried his face into Tony’s shoulder, beard scratching against his skin as he shuddered, pleasure pulsing through him as he rode out his high.

Tony hummed blissfully, “Christ, we’re good at that.”

Steve laughed, pulling out of Tony gently as he moved to take the condom off and throw it in the trash can near the bed. Tony hadn’t moved and Steve cuddled up to him again, arms wrapping around him as they relaxed into a sweaty heap.

“We should get cleaned up,” Steve muttered, fingers tracing the bite marks he left in Tony’s shoulder through his shirt.

Tony grabbed his arms, pulling them tighter around himself, “I can’t feel my legs. We aren’t moving.”

“You’ll be sleeping in the wet patch.” Steve reminded him with a smile and a kiss against his shoulder.

“I’ll just sleep on you.” Tony replied, not bothering to protest as he wiggled back against Steve.

Steve knew he wouldn’t win this argument and there was something about having Tony in his bed, in his arms that just felt right. He didn’t want to have to move and ruin the moment they were carving out of their blissed-out state. Steve snuggled back against him, spooning him from behind.

Being with Tony like this, it felt right. Even when the whole world was collapsing around his ears and threatening to choke him. Even when everyone in Brooklyn wanted to see him fall. This moment with Tony, any moment with Tony was worth clinging to.

Steve ignored the voice in his head that told him this was what love felt like because he was a monster. Monsters couldn’t love. This was lust, this was family, this was addiction and caring and something else.

It definitely couldn’t be love.

Tony had slipped past so many of his defences though, what was one more crumbling wall between them now?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Chapter contains mentions of war crimes and gore. Mentions of abortion.

Tony woke up first, to the smell of sex and sunrise. He shuffled lazily, cocooned in Steve’s warmth as he laid against his side. The sheets had slipped down to their waists and despite the December weather and the fact they were both naked - having ditched their shirts in the middle of the night - Tony wasn’t cold. He was thirsty though.

With extra care he untangled himself from the octopus of a mob boss next to him. Steve was all arms when he slept, pulling Tony closer in his sleep until they were so firmly pressed together, they were practically one. When Tony managed to get free, Steve gave a little frown in his sleep making his displeasure known but stayed on his back, arm spread out towards Tony’s side of the bed.

He found his boxers in their mess of clothes and stole the plain white t-shirt Steve had discarded on the chair by the window at some point to slip over his head. The idea of putting his dress shirt back on seemed silly for a trip to the bathroom and Tony was sure Steve wouldn’t mind.

He crept across the hall to Steve’s private bathroom quickly, trying not to wake the mob boss. He grabbed some water from the tap in there and spared a moment to look at himself in the mirror hanging over the sink. He was wild, dark hair curling slightly and nothing more than a mess on the top of his head. Steve’s t-shirt was too big, revealing more of Tony’s collarbones than a normal one would. He could see the dark bruise blooming on his neck from Steve’s mouth last night. A visual mark of possessiveness that made Tony’s gut warm and a smile curve onto his lips at the thought of his mark also present on the skin of Steve’s hipbone.

When he was done, he moved back into the bedroom with as much silence as he could. The house below seemed eerily quiet from the landing, but Tony was sure someone at least was up. This wasn’t a house of late risers.

There was something about the way the sunrise hit Steve’s room, the soft glow from the windows that turned everything a magical shade of orange and seemed to make the room warmer despite the winter weather outside. Tony took a moment, eyes gazing out the window. In his head he wondered whether it was the mob boss in Steve or the artist in him that had chosen this room. The view was beautiful, the skyline of Brooklyn in full view and Tony could almost imagine him sketching it in the early hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep and needed to keep his hands busy.

Steve’s room was nothing like he had expected. All dark wood and dark cream walls. It was homely. It was private. It was peaceful. It was Steve. There were stacks of books against one wall, having overgrown the small bookcase that was there Steve had resorted to stacking them up like a wall next to it. Tony saw plenty of army books there, some history ones and others on strategy. There were books about vintage cars and surprisingly quite a few murder mystery ones mixed in with the nonfiction. Tony smiled at that, the mob boss reading about fictional murders and trying to work out the culprit before it was revealed. It was so Steve, trying to find the clues in the pages and figure it out before the characters did.

He moved back over to the bed, taking time to look over at Steve. He looked so peaceful when he slept, almost vulnerable. He was on his back, that impressive chest on display with the midnight blue sheets pooling around his waist. Tony could see a hint of the bruise he left on Steve last night peeking from under the sheet on his hip. There was a piece of blonde hair curling over his forehead and Tony resisted the urge to push it back behind Steve’s ear. He didn’t want to wake him.

Instead, his eyes found a black sketchpad resting on the armchair tucked into the corner of the room. He couldn’t resist picking it up, getting to know another part of Steve. He knew he sketched, they had talked about it in passing but Tony had never actually seen Steve’s work and he was curious. The pad was rich leather and A4 in size. It was probably a gift from one of his family members.

He settled back into the bed; legs crossed with the sketchpad in his lap. He spared a glance at Steve, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth before darting his eyes back to the book in his hand and opening the front page.

Steve’s work was incredible, that was Tony’s first thought as he flipped though the pages with an eagerness and awe that had his stomach curling tightly. He was right, that was his second thought as he took in the sketches of Brooklyn’s skyline in the first few pages. It was the same scene from the window, brought to life in pencils and shades of grey. As he flicked further through the pad, the subject matter changed. There were pictures of The Avengers now instead. One of Natasha mid ballet pose with her hands above her head, how Steve managed to capture the joy in her eyes using a pencil Tony would never understand. There was one of Bruce, brow furrowed in a frown as he did the morning crossword puzzle in the paper. One of Thor, all looming muscle yet a joyful face. The one of Bucky looking younger than Tony had ever seen him, happier than Tony had ever seen him and he wondered what had gone so wrong to turn him into the cold man Tony had met in this very house. Briefly, he realised that Natasha was right. Steve tried to keep hold of the good moments, he put them down in these pages so he couldn’t lose them, and he could remind himself that he deserved these moments. This happiness, however fleeting.

Then he saw himself. At least it was sketches of his eyes. All dark and playful but they were definitely his. Then there were actually sketches of him, in this pad along with everyone else Steve cared about. Tony was unprepared for the onslaught of emotion rising up in him. His hands stopped flicking through the pages at the sketch of him working on the car in Steve’s garage. It was a side profile, Tony busy focusing on the car in the drawing but there was something there. The look of peace and contentment at doing something he loved, even in a drawing Steve managed to see him better than most people did in a lifetime.

“That one’s my favourite.” The voice made him jump and he looked over his shoulder to see Steve awake. Those blue eyes soft as they stared at him.

Tony closed the sketchpad, feeling almost guilty for snooping, “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Steve sat up, shifting so he could rest his chin on Tony shoulder, “You don’t have to apologise.”

“You’re really good.” Tony told him softly, “When did you learn how to draw like that?”

“When I was a kid. I was always drawing something. I stopped when I went into the army. There wasn’t much down time for stuff like that but when I came back Sam brought me the sketchpad and told me to start again. He thought it might help me find some peace, I think.” Steve replied.

Tony nodded, running a hand over the book in his lap, “Did it?”

“I think so. For a little while. It calms me down.” Steve said softly.

“Are you ready to talk to me about last night?” Tony asked, “The phone call?”

Steve sighed, running a hand over his beard, “Tony, you don’t have to…”

“I told you, I’m all in. Whatever it was, it shook you, so I want to know about it.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, “The phone that I answered, I took it off the Hydra guy at the party. Pierce. Rumlow’s errand boy, looking for political favours to move his bombs. It was Rumlow on the phone, I didn’t know when I answered it.”

Tony’s eyes grew wide, the look in Steve’s face wasn’t good.

“Did he….”

The sound of the door banging open was enough to have them both startling, Thor striding into the room with frantic steps and wild eyes.

“Jesus, Thor!” Steve bit out, “Knock, would you? I’m naked under here.” He held the sheet closer to his chest as he said it.

Thor paid him no attention, “Captain, you have to come see this. Now.”

There was something in Thor’s tone, deadly and grim, that had Steve moving to collect his boxers from the floor and shove his legs through them. He was off the bed as soon as they were on his hips and he grabbed a pair of grey joggers off the same chair Tony had stolen his t-shirt from as he followed Thor out of the room, shoving the joggers on his legs as he went.

Tony threw the sketchpad onto the bed next to him and scrambled out of the sheets, following in their wake. Whatever this was had Thor spooked and was urgent enough to have him barging into Steve’s room. It wasn’t going to be good news. Tony could feel it like a knot in his stomach as he raced after Steve in his boxers and stolen shirt, jogging down the stairs to keep up.

Everyone was waiting in the living room, anxious faces all staring at Steve patiently. Tony felt almost shy standing there in Steve’s t-shirt and his boxers, despite the fact everyone else was still in their pyjamas and Steve himself was without a shirt in his haste to find out what was going on. He tugged at the hem of Steve’s shirt, hoping to pull it further down his legs before he stopped himself. It wasn’t like they didn’t know they were together. Everyone knew what they were doing in Steve’s room last night.

“What’s happening?” Steve demanded, his shoulders were tense, and his jaw was clenched.

Natasha looked at him for a moment, a wave of fear flashed over her green eyes before she waved the remote towards the television screen in the corner of the living, “This.” She replied, turning on the sound as everyone else turned their attention to the new report that was playing.

The headline was bad enough: **The Captain’s identity revealed.**

The report itself was even worse and Steve could feel the bottom of his stomach fall out as he listened to the news anchor give her report on him, glancing down at her papers every so often. She was stiff and her speech was clearly rushed in the channel’s haste to break this story whilst the citizens of Brooklyn ate their breakfast.

**“Late last night the identity of the notorious mob boss, The Captain, was revealed both online and to the press by an unknown source. We have police verifying this information as the story unfolds and we have been told that there will be a warrant out of his arrest shortly after. The Captain, a man who made a name for himself as leader of The Avengers has been named as Steve Rogers, a former army Captain who was believed to have been killed on a mission whilst serving in Afghanistan.” **

“This is bad. This is really bad.” Clint muttered; eyes glued to the screen.

Natasha shook her head, “How did they even get your name?”

Steve’s eyes were on the screen as an old army photo of him flashed up on the right-hand side. He barely recognised the man staring back at him, small and weak. He didn’t have what it took to survive. He was so young back then, innocent and wide eyed and off to fight another man’s war like the good little soldier he always wanted to be. Steve almost felt sorry for him.

**“Rogers is dangerous, and we urge anyone who has any information on The Captain to call the police helpline for the Mob Unit led by Special Agent Ross. We don’t know much about him, but The Captain has been credited with over a dozen kills that we know of, including the death of Johan Schmidt and his own former leader, Phillips.”**

Tony’s eyes were on Steve, who hadn’t shown any sign of recognition since he came into the living room, “They don’t know anything for sure. We can give them another false trail, tell them The Captain is someone else.”

Bucky sighed, “That won’t work. Ross will be looking into this with a fine-tooth comb. If Fury put the dots together then he will as well.”

“This is Rumlow.” Steve told them, “Pierce was at the party last night. I dealt with him, took his phone and when he got a call it was Rumlow on the other end.”

Natasha shook her head, “You just had to answer it.”

“We aren’t living in fear of him, Nat. We aren’t cowering in the shadows and waiting for an attack. I didn’t know he’d recognise my voice after all these years. I wasn’t expecting him to leak my name to the press but it’s smart. It puts the heat on me, he needs that. He’s playing us at our own game.” Steve said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“So, what do we do now?” Bucky asked.

Thor stepped closer to Steve’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder, “We take the fight to Rumlow. We tear apart everyone standing in our way.”

Steve sighed, “It won’t stop Ross. He has my name now. It’s only a matter of time before he confirms it’s the right one.”

“Don’t say it like you’re giving up.” It was Tony’s voice, smaller and unsure next to Thor’s but Steve’s eyes immediately went to him. So did everyone else’s.

It was a strange thing, to see your downfall in front of you and not be able to stop it. It was like stepping out in front of a car and being paralysed to move even though it was coming closer. That’s how Steve felt. He could see it all, the downfall of The Captain, the trial of Steve Rogers and the prosecution of The Avengers. Was this how his story goes? The boy who had dreamed of being a soldier, the man who had already died once, was this really how he was going to go out? Hydra on one side and Ross on the other whilst he was backed into a corner?

Steve Rogers was many things. He was loyal, he was a fighter, a survivor. He was stubborn and resilient, and he never walked away from a fight. Even if he knew it was one he might lose.

“I’m not giving up.” Steve told him, eyes looking at the rest of his family, “We’re not giving up. We’re The Avengers, we don’t give up.”

Clint nodded, “So, we have a plan?”

“We divide and conquer.” Steve replied, “You guys need to stay on Rumlow. I need to know everyone he sees, everywhere he goes. You take shifts. You watch each other’s backs. I need to know where he is building the bombs and who he is planning to sell them too.”

“What about you?” Natasha asked, hands on her hips.

Steve could barely look at her, “I’ll handle Ross.”

“Steve, bad idea. We can’t kill him.” Bucky warned him, “I want to, believe me but if you kill him then you’ll be the cop killer that Rumlow is making you out to be.”

“I’m not going to kill him, Buck.”

Steve left it at that, walking out of the room before anyone else could question him. He didn’t have a plan, not really. He had no idea how he was going to get the cops to Rumlow and see he was making bombs. And even if he managed to do that, he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one himself when the world knew his name. It was a no-win situation and he couldn’t tell his family that. He couldn’t look at them, knowing they trusted him to see them through this and have no idea how to get them there.

Tony didn’t follow him. Steve wondered whether it was because he was finally seeing him for what he actually was, or he was realising how screwed he was to have chosen Steve in the first place. Perhaps this was it, the moment Tony walked out the door and didn’t come back.

Steve wasn’t sure he had the fight in him to stop him anymore. It was ebbing out of him with every minute as he climbed the stairs to his room to change out of his joggers. Is this what his downfall looked like? When they came for him, Rumlow or Ross, whoever reached him first would they be disappointed to see the shell of the man he once was. No fight left in him. Would they pity him or dig the knife in deeper?

Once in his room with the door shut, Steve allowed himself a moment to breathe. He let his eyes slide shut as his back rested against the wood of his door and he felt his hands start to shake.

The beginning of the end.

He expected something more than this. Blood, violence. He expected a gunshot wound or an explosion. That’s how it was supposed to happen. Gunfire and glory, that’s what they thought in the army anyway.

He never expected it to be like this. Quiet and invisible and bloodless. Steve could fight a war; he knew how to face an opponent when he was staring down the barrel of a gun. How was he meant to win this one when the noose being fashioned was one of his own design?

The sound of a phone ringing startled him, and Steve clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. It wasn’t his phone. He reached on the floor for the suit jacket at the end of the bed, fishing out Pierce’s phone from the pocket. He knew who was calling, who else would it be?

“Hello?” He bit out, fighting to keep his voice level and dangerous. He spoke in a low growl, Rumlow wouldn’t hear him waver.

The smile from the other end was practically screaming at him, “Captain, I told you I’d tear down your empire, didn’t I? I hope you don’t mind it being brick by brick.”

Steve wanted to punch him, “It’s just a name, Rumlow. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“No? What about Sam Wilson? Or Thor Odinson? How about Natasha Romanoff?” Rumlow sneered, “They were easier to find when I knew what I was looking for.”

Steve felt his blood run cold, “I’ll end you, Rumlow. I’ll carve the same ‘A’ into your chest as you did in those cops and I’ll leave your body out for everyone to see.”

“How are you going to do that from a cell, Steve?” Rumlow asked, “You get a choice here, death by fire or death by water.”

“I’ll make sure if I go down then you’re coming down with me. Two empires crumbling to dust in the city that we once called home.” Steve spat out.

Rumlow laughed, “What about them? Your family?”

“What do you want?” Steve replied.

“I want to be the one to kill you, Steve. I want to be the man who killed The Captain.”

Steve snarled, “Go to Hell.”

“You want to play it that way? Fine, hand yourself over to me or the next name I release will be Natasha’s or Sam’s or Clint’s. The cops might not be able to get you, but they can arrest everyone else. Clint’s got a reputation for police custody, hasn’t he? Natasha has an impressive rap sheet too.” Rumlow replied.

So this was his play, he didn’t want the cops to arrest Steve. He wanted to force Steve’s hand so he had no other choice but to go to Rumlow instead. It would make him easier to kill if he resigned himself to his fate to protect his family. Rumlow was relying on Steve’s instinct for wanting to go out in an honourable way for a mob boss, gunfire and blood, rather than rotting in a jail cell. It was smart. It’s a move Steve would have made himself if the options had been available.

“And let me guess, you get me and they go free?” Steve said.

Rumlow chuckled, “You always were smart. I don’t care about them. They can join Hydra or they can leave town. I just need you to topple an empire. That’s how you did it, isn’t it? Killed Phillips, took his place, the start of a new age for Brooklyn.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“You have until tomorrow evening to make your decision, Cap. I’ll text you the location. If you don’t show I won’t bother with the press this time, I’ll take those names straight to the cops. Your family will be locked up by lunchtime.” Rumlow told him, voice firm.

Steve hung up the call. The phone in his hand seemed to mock him, vibrating in his palm with an incoming text.

**6pm. The Docks. Shipment container 734.**

Steve hurled the phone at the wall in anger, the device bouncing off the wall with a crack to land uselessly on the floor. It didn’t make him feel any better, but it didn’t make him feel any worse either.

Rumlow had all the cards and he knew it. Steve had his family and even that wasn’t enough. He couldn’t save them. He couldn’t save any of them.

/

Tony tracked Steve down to the garage when he didn’t come back to the living room. Natasha had said he would be trying to shut himself off, trying to protect them from seeing their leader and their friend like this. She’d seen it before. Tony hadn’t though and he wasn’t about to let Steve wrestle with this weight alone.

He gave him some time to cool off, heard the shower start up and later heard his footsteps trudging back down the stairs making a beeline for the garage. Was this cold and aloft shell more of The Captain than Steve Rogers?

Tony sat there with the others as they bounced ideas back and forth about how to deal with this problem. They all had complete faith that Steve could fix it but they wanted to help and Tony was eager to brainstorm with them if it meant he could bring Steve some good news and smooth out that worry line crinkled into his forehead. Those ideas ranged from several detailed accounts at how to kill Rumlow (Natasha and Thor) to the practicality of how they were going to get the cops to stumble upon Rumlow’s business venture when they found it (Sam and Bruce) to kidnapping Ross and pretending Hydra was behind it so he had a personal interest in going after them first (Clint and Bucky). Any of those might have worked if they got lucky but it would be down to luck and Tony knew that Steve wouldn’t gamble their lives or their freedom on a lucky shot. Everyone else in the room knew that too.

Steve had his back to Tony as he made his way down the stairs of the garage. It was the same as ever, vintage cars ferociously shiny and on display, the overflowing workbench in the corner that probably had a gun taped to the underside. Even the darker patch that had once been blood was still there, just a darker grey now like it had been painted over so the chemicals could erode what was left of the DNA.

The difference was the massive punching bag set up in the middle of the room. Steve was currently going to town on the leather, hitting it with a single-minded determination that should have scared Tony if he didn’t know Steve was doing it to block everything else out. At least he had the sense to wrap his hands up first. If it came down to a fight then Steve would need to be in perfect condition, he’d need his hands.

For a brief moment Tony wondered if he should leave Steve to it, let him work out whatever he needed to without the distraction but there was something in the frantic edge to Steve’s punches and the way sweat slid down his temple that Tony just couldn’t walk away from. He approached cautiously, Steve gave no sign of hearing him, but he didn’t tense when Tony laid a gentle palm on his back. Steve stilled mid-punch, catching the bag with one hand as he dropped his head.

“Rough day?” Tony asked softly, hoping the lightness of the sentence would let Steve know he came in peace.

Steve huffed a laugh, “You could say that.”

“The others are brainstorming; we’ll figure it out.” Tony told him, handing slipping off Steve’s back as he moved round to face him.

His cheeks were red with exertion and his chest heaved, “It’s not meant to be like this. None of it. When I built this gang, this family. I promised them I would protect them; I would stand in between them and whoever wanted to hurt them. I’m failing and they all see it.”

Tony shook his head, “They didn’t stay because you offered them protection, Steve. They stayed because they cared about you. _We_ care about you. They just want to keep this family together.”

“You know when I first recruited them, I thought this was it, my chance to build something better than Phillips did. Something the army couldn’t give me. A real home.” Steve sighed, “I didn’t really plan on The Captain making this much noise.”

“How did he? How did the boy who dreamed about becoming a getaway driver end up as Brooklyn’s most wanted mob boss?” Tony asked, the question out before he could stop it.

Steve pulled at his wrap on his hand as he spoke, “He grew up poor. I lived about ten blocks from here, Bucky and T’Challa lived in the same street. We were those kids that dreamed about making a difference, you know? But I was poor and sick, especially in the winter months. We couldn’t afford the heating bill back then, so I got hit with everything going. We couldn’t afford a hospital either, I’d stay at Bucky’s when it got real bad and sit by the fire and just try to shake it. Then my mom caught the same bout of pneumonia that I did. I got better. She didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony uttered.

“T’Challa’s family had money, he stole some so I could take her to a doctor, but it was too late. She was too sick.” Steve took a moment to collect himself before continuing, “I just remember thinking how unfair it was, for her to suffer because we were poor. It didn’t make us any less because we couldn’t afford medical bills or heating. It shouldn’t have cost her life. So I had one thought, make the world better. For her. So, I joined the army. Thought being a soldier would make her proud, it would allow me to help people.”

Tony watched as Steve finished unwrapping his hand, fingers working to fold the fabric neatly in his lap, “Afghanistan.”

“Bucky enlisted with me and we met Sam and it was fine for a while. We were helping people, defending the little guy who couldn’t defend themselves. Rumlow and his team were brought in on a mission to evacuate a village full of innocents, we’d gotten intel there was a bomb attack. He didn’t much care about sweeping the place for anyone we missed though, he just wanted to get out of there fast. I disagreed, there were still people in their homes scared and we had to get them out. We fought about it, divided the mission. Next thing I know, I’m lying in the desert with a mouth full of sand and no hope of survival.”

Tony frowned, “Rumlow, did he…?”

Steve shrugged, meeting his gaze for the first time, “I don’t know. Maybe I hit my head, or the bomb went off. It doesn’t matter. I walked for days until I found people, I was half dead by then. When I made it back stateside everyone thought I was dead, and they gave me a medal for it. For dying, how messed up is that? Presented it to Bucky like it was a trophy.” Steve bit out a stale laugh, “I met Phillips shortly after. I needed cash but I had no identity. I was a dead man and once again I was poor. He gave me a job in his gang. Street level work, collecting payments and issuing threats. That sort of thing. I moved up the ranks pretty quickly, and so The Captain was born.”

“Did Phillips know who you were?” Tony asked gently.

Steve started unwrapping his other hand just for something to do, “Yeah, he knew. Told me not to worry about it. The Captain was the only thing that mattered. He taught me a lot, and we were making a difference to our own streets. There is something seductive about that, seeing the change right in front of you effecting people you know. Phillips got too bold and too cocky. I watched him make mistake after mistake that he was blind to because he thought the power would protect him.”

Tony nodded, “So you killed him because you thought you could do a better job.”

“I didn’t.” Steve whispered softly, “I didn’t kill him. He was dying anyway. Cancer. He knew it was a matter of time. He told me on the way to a meeting with Hydra’s leader. A guy called Schmidt. I think he was trying to prepare me for what was about to happen.”

“What happened?”

Steve caught his gaze again, eyes burning, “Schmidt killed him. He slit his throat right there at the docks like butter. I killed Schmidt to even the score. Then when I told the gang what had happened they all looked to me to be the next leader. They started speculating whether I was telling the truth or whether I killed Phillips just to get him out the way.”

Tony sighed, “Jesus, Steve.”

“I let them believe it, I let them spread those rumours as much as they liked because it helped them to fear me. Phillips always used to say fear is how you gain power, but it doesn’t keep you there. That’s when I knew if I wanted to stay on top I had to rebuild The Avengers into something that was completely my own. A system I created that wasn’t based on fear but on loyalty. That was something Phillips never understood.” Steve replied, freeing his hand from the other wrap and dropping the fabric into his lap.

“You’re really not as bad as everyone thinks, you know?” Tony replied with a smile.

Steve shook his head, “Yes, I am. I may not have killed Phillips Tony, but I have killed countless other people. Only last night I cut a man’s hand off then came back inside to dance with you like nothing happened and it didn’t bother me. Not once. I grew into the role of The Captain and I lived up to every violent story there is about me.”

“Because you were trying to survive.”

“Yes.” The word sounded hollow and empty in his mouth, “And now it might have been all for nothing.”

Tony surged forward, stepping between Steve’s legs as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Steve pushed his forehead into Tony’s stomach, the sweat on his brow sticking to Tony’s t-shirt.

“We’ll make sure it’s not for nothing.” Tony told him, “You just have to fight. That’s all, Steve. You’ve been doing it for so long, just a little more, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve muttered into his stomach, “Okay.” He pushed his head back, hands slipping up Tony’s legs, “I’ll go talk to Nat. We need to find out where Rumlow’s moved production of the bombs in the city. I’ll talk to Fury, see if we can lead a trail for Ross to follow. Maybe T’Challa can use some pull to discredit my name. If we can prove Steve Rogers did die in Afghanistan, then Ross might not bother running the tests to prove he’s The Captain. We need evidence though, something he can’t dispute.”

Tony nodded, “I’ll go to city hall to see T’Challa. You shouldn’t go anywhere near it. I’ll get the death certificate and see if he can pull the mission report from Afghanistan. It should be enough to slow Ross down, especially if he has a lead on Rumlow by then.”

Tony pulled back to get to work but Steve help him firm, pulling him back in as those icy blue eyes met his, “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony dropped a kiss into his sweaty hair, “Don’t mention it.” Then he pulled away heading up the stairs to change and get to T’Challa’s office.

Steve watched him go, hating every fibre of his being for lying to Tony. It had to be done if this was going to work though.

/

He was on his way to shower when he found Natasha, or rather he heard her. Her voice was unmistakable in the house at any time being the only feminine voice around, but it was even clearer when she was shouting. And she was shouting.

Steve all but ran to her room on the second floor, irrationally thinking this was Hydra. Natasha wouldn’t have been shouting about it if it was Hydra though, she’d be killing them. Steve realised his mistake when he heard Bucky’s voice answer hers behind the closed door of her bedroom.

This was good, they were communicating at least and that meant maybe they stood a chance of working out whatever was going on between them.

Steve was about to walk away, leave them to their privacy when he heard his name. He stood frozen as their conversation continued.

“If you need to be mad at me then be mad at me.” Natasha hissed out, “Stop taking it out on Steve, on Tony, on everyone else in this goddamn house.”

Steve held his breath as he waited for Bucky’s reply, “I’m not taking it out on anyone. You’re being ridiculous.”

“No? So, voting against Tony being part of this team? That wasn’t you throwing your toys out the pram because god forbid someone actually has the chance to be happy in this family.”

Bucky was clearly getting angry, his tone more clipped than before, “We might have had the chance to be happy, Nat, but you decided differently.”

“Say it.” Natasha bit out, “Go on, Bucky. Say it.”

Steve should walk away. He shouldn’t hear this. They didn’t want him to hear this.

“You killed our fucking baby, Nat.” The words were out of Bucky’s mouth before Steve could move. His heart was hammering in his chest.

Steve could imagine Natasha’s recoil at the statement, her voice lower than before, “I had an abortion, Bucky. It was the right thing to do.”

“It was the right thing to do for you. I didn’t get a say.”

“You’re right. I didn’t want to be a mother.” Natasha sounded defeated, “I didn’t want that responsibility and I’m glad I did it. Look at who we are, the life we have. You want to bring a child into this? Dropping it off on a playdate so we can go and kill a man? Praying they don’t find the guns we need to keep stashed around the place for our own protection.”

Bucky’s voice wavered and Steve felt his heart clench, “We could have worked it out if we tried, Nat. We could have left, gone somewhere just the two of us and been a family.”

“You’re living in a fantasy.” Natasha’s venom was back in her voice, “We would be bored in months. We choose this life, Bucky. Both of us. This family. I should have told you, but I wanted to avoid this. I wanted to protect you from going through the same thing I had to go through when I made the decision.”

“You don’t get to decide something like that for me.” Bucky spat out, “It’s your body, I know it’s your choice but the least you could have done was told me. Instead I had to find a leaflet in your room and connect the dots. You owed me more than that.”

Steve wanted to run, he wanted to open the door and put the broken pieces of his family back together, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place.

He heard the floor creak in Nat’s room, someone had moved, “I’m sorry. I am. But you know I’m right. We’re mobsters, we don’t get a happy ending. You and me, they are going to put us in the ground together, but I can’t give you anything else. You know that.”

Bucky seemed to crumble in on himself, his voice soft and barely audible through the wood, “I know that. But fuck Nat, this is so messed up.”

“I know baby, I know.” She replied.

Steve took that as his chance to back away, he shouldn’t have heard any of that and as much as he wanted to tell Natasha she was wrong, they could have a happy ending, that he’d make sure of it, he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place, it was Bucky’s. They’d come back together on their own, they were complex and intertwined together in a way Steve could only dream of having. To have someone who loved you so unconditionally, so messily and purely and deeply. Wasn’t that what he wanted? Wasn’t that why he encouraged their relationship in the first place? Because if they found hope then maybe he could as well.

Or, at least, that had been the plan once.

Now though, listening to them break their hearts open and try and stitch the pieces back together he knew what he had to do. He could give them a happy ending. At least, he could do that. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t the win everyone was hoping for but they would have each other and maybe a chance to build that life with kids and a happy ending if they wanted to. Steve could give that to them. Didn’t he owe them that? After everything they had done for him?

This family that had bled and killed and defended him. That had built him from the ground up and given him something more to be and to aim for. How else could he repay that debt now other than like this. By saving them. By taking this fight out of their hands and carrying it in his own.

Tony would never let him, none of his family would but Steve could work around that. He could deal with that. They didn’t need to know anything; they could keep working on the original plan. Find out where Rumlow’s weapons building was taking place. They’d need to stop it either way.

Steve dug his phone out of his pocket, hitting the call button when he found the number he was looking for. It rang three times before there was an answer.

“Do you have a death wish?” Fury snapped as a greeting, “Ross is watching my every move. I can’t take your calls.”

“Don’t hang up.” Steve told him, “I have a plan to end all of this, but I need your help.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line, “I’m listening…”

Steve took a deep breath and then he started filling Fury in on everything he was planning. The only other person in the world who knew Steve’s plan and might be able to help him with it.

He’d save his family. He’d protect Tony.

That would be enough.

It had to be.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: First part of this chapter contains smut!

Tony was still in bed when Steve came back from his run the following morning, sprawled out amongst the covers with a boyish sort of peace on his face. Steve was sweaty from his run, having pushed himself harder than normal. He needed to. He needed everything in his head to calm down for a moment, he needed to just not think about the mess they were in and the things he might have to do to fix it.

He needed to forget.

Tony gave a small huff in his sleep, like he disapproved of Steve’s thinking. Steve knew there would be no going back from this, if his plan worked it would save them all, but it would also destroy his relationship with Tony. He’s relationship with his family. His life.

But this wasn’t about Steve, this was about them. Those people that would bleed and fight and die for him. The ones who’d sacrifice everything they had if he asked. He wouldn’t. He’d much rather lay down on the wire himself.

Tony stirred in the sheets, but he didn’t wake. God, Steve would never tire of having him here. In his life, his home, his bed. How had Steve earned this right? This privilege? Tony was a masterpiece in skin, all tanned and warm and plaint and Steve knew every inch now. He’d mapped it with his hands and his mouth so many times and still he wanted another.

He shrugged out of his joggers and his t-shirt, balling them up into a corner until he was as naked as Tony was under those sheets. Steve couldn’t help himself, he needed to wake Tony up anyway so why not let them both enjoy it? Just for a little while longer.

Steve knelt on the bed, feeling it move under his weight as he crawled over Tony’s sleeping form. The mechanic slept on, so used to Steve’s presence that it barely startled him anymore. Steve moved until he was straddling him, powerful thighs bracketing Tony’s hips as he leaned down. His mouth closed over Tony’s neck, that beautiful slope of his skin that Steve loved so much. He placed open mouthed kisses to the warmth, feeling Tony hum happily in his sleep.

That wouldn’t do though. They could do better.

Steve’s lips moved down, paying particular attention to Tony’s collarbone, licking the dips of his skin before moving further down his chest. Tony stirred, gave a sharp intake of breath but slept on. He was safe, Steve knew, and content with having Steve close to him. Steve stopped when he reached Tony’s stomach, eyes peering up at him gently before shifting down the bed and pulling the sheet down with him as he went.

Tony’s body shivered but still he slept on, Steve placed a kiss on his hipbone as he settled himself in the space between Tony’s thighs. He was already hard, the excitement and desire for Tony pooling in his gut the second he crawled onto the bed to join him. Tony was sporting morning wood, his cock half hard and curious to the attention.

Steve shuffled down further, latching his lips onto the sensitive skin of Tony’s inner thigh as he kissed and sucked an invisible pattern there. Tony stirred beneath him, a small shuffle of his body and a huff from his throat. That was better. Steve rewarded him with a ghost of warm breath over his cock and his other hand lazily trailing up Tony’s other thigh. His fingers were cold from the outside weather and Steve could feel the goose bumps erupt over Tony’s skin from his hands.

Tony’s cock was growing hard now, the length filling out and standing to attention from Steve’s administrations, but Steve ignored it. His mouth moved over the crease of Tony’s thigh back towards his hipbone. He sucked on the skin hard, a wet pop of his mouth as he flicked over his skin. Tony thrusted up towards him although a quick check showed he was still half asleep. His breathing had gotten deeper in his excitement though, Steve watched as his chest rose and fall with each breath.

There was something about having him like this, under the haze of sleep in the early morning chill that was so domestic it made Steve want to shy away from it. He wasn’t used to it, having the luxury of taking his time with his lover. Tony however was seemingly impatient, his cock shiny with precome as his chest fell again.

Steve could feel his own erection pressing into the mattress but ignored it in favour of swirling his tongue around the tip of Tony’s. He was salty as Steve moved his tongue against the head, his body jerking at the new sensation.

“Steve?” He asked roughly, his voice sleepily but decidedly more awake.

That’s what Steve wanted. He let his mouth sink down on Tony’s cock, taking him as far down his throat as he could without gagging. That had Tony gasping fully awake as his hands fisting the sheets either side of him and his head lifted off the pillows to watch Steve take him.

Tony’s eyes were dark with arousal and Steve managed to smirk at him with his mouth full of his cock, slowly drawing back up to flick the top with his tongue again. Tony’s head rolled back against the pillows with a flop, and Steve knew he’d closed his eyes. His hips stuttered against him, so Steve moved his hands to hold down Tony’s hips. He wasn’t done teasing him yet.

Steve flicked against the tip of Tony’s cock again, and again and again, waiting until Tony gave a sharp cry before sinking back down on his length. He let Tony fill him up, hollowing out his cheeks as he lazily bobbed his head up and down his cock. It was too slow for Tony to cum and it was making him impatient. Steve could feel him shaking against his hands, trying to get his hips up.

Tony was as horny as Steve this morning.

He increased his pace a little when Tony gave a whine, keeping his tongue flat on the underside of Tony’s cock to heighten the feeling. Tony moaning wantonly, Steve always did love how vocal he could be.

“Fuck, Steve.” Tony gasped, uselessly trying to thrust his hips up against Steve’s hands. Steve himself had to give a shallow thrust into the mattress at his own leaking cock needing friction.

Steve hummed around Tony’s cock as if to respond to him and it drove Tony crazy, the vibrations on his sensitive skin almost had him bucking off the bed in a move that surprised Steve but he held him down firm. Tony threw a leg over Steve’s shoulder instead, bringing Steve in closer to him as his heel dug into Steve’s back.

Steve hummed again when he felt Tony’s heel digging into him, urging him on and felt his cock jerk in his mouth. He pulled back up before sinking back down on the length again, watching with glee as Tony’s breath stuttered in his throat. His hands were knuckle white against the sheets as Steve swallowed down around him.

Tony jerked again, “Fuck, Steve. Please, fuck.”

Steve did the move again, watching as Tony writhed beneath him like a crescendo in a musical number. He was beautiful and sinful and for now at least, he was all Steve’s. He increased his pace again, moving his head up and down faster then before until he could feel Tony in the back of his throat and smell his sweat. His nose was buried into Tony’s pubic bone on every thrust and Tony was practically vibrating with his arousal.

“I need more, fuck, I need to come.” Tony whispered hoarsely.

Steve responded by wrapping Tony’s other leg around his shoulder, fully trapping himself in the cradle of Tony’s hips. His hands released Tony from his grip, sliding round to cup his ass so Tony was free to thrust against him.

Tony wasted no time in doing just that, his rhythm was shaky as he allowed himself a few shallow thrusts into Steve’s mouth, feeling out what worked for him. Steve encouraged him with a squeeze of his ass cheeks, lifting Tony up higher to thrust in further. He could take it and Tony needed the relief.

Tony’s legs were shaking around him as he let himself go, thrusting hard and fast into Steve’s pliant mouth. Steve let him take what he needed, crushing his own erection into the mattress beneath him as Tony fucked his face. One of Tony’s hand left the sheet to tangle in Steve’s hair instead, helping guide Steve the way he wanted him.

Steve went willingly, the sharp tug on his scalp going straight to his cock as Tony thrust against his throat again and Steve held his tongue flat against Tony’s cock. Tony was moaning, moving constantly as he climbed higher into his orgasm, Steve’s strong arms encasing him on either side as he squeezed Tony’s ass and hummed against him every so often to add a new sensation to the mix. Tony loved it, cock jerking and legs squeezing around Steve’s head as he threatened to come.

Steve was sure he’d come soon if Tony didn’t, his body was insistently rutting against the mattress as Tony fucked his mouth and he wasn’t sure whether it was Tony shaking or him anymore. Tony’s heels were going to leave bruises on his shoulder blades as he dug them in, cock hitting the back of Steve’s throat again.

“I’m close. Fuck Steve, so close.” Tony gasped out, sliding out and back in again.

Steve closed his mouth more firmly over Tony’s cock, not giving him the chance to slide out again. He swallowed around him, feeling Tony’s hips move against his face and his hand tighten in Steve’s hair before Steve sucked him hard. He sunk his cheeks in and brought Tony closer to him with the hands guiding his butt and he sucked him down.

Tony spasmed underneath him, mumbling something unintelligible as he came into Steve’s mouth. Warm and salty cum hit the back of his throat as Steve swallowed some of it down. He pulled back when he couldn’t anymore, letting the rest of Tony’s cum dribble out into the space between them and slide down his cock.

He was a sweaty exhausted heap beneath Steve and with a few more thrusts into the mattress Steve came as well, making a mess of the sheets and his stomach as his cum pooled beneath him. He rolled over, moving off the wet spot with a sly grin, a tight stomach, and Tony’s hand absently stroking his hair as Steve leaned his forehead against his hip.

“Best wake up call ever.” Tony breathed out, “Definitely need to make that a regular thing.”

Steve chuckled but didn’t respond, how could he?

“Hey,” Tony nudged him with a hand, “You’re still alive down there right?”

Steve groaned, moving to his hands and knees so he could crawl up the bed. He landed on Tony’s chest with a sigh, hands supporting most of his weight as he laid against his lover, “Still alive.” Steve replied, placing a kiss on Tony’s chest.

Tony hummed happily, hand back in Steve’s sweaty hair, “You smell disgusting.”

Steve let out a laugh, “You weren’t complaining a second ago.”

“Early run this morning?” Tony asked, hooking a leg over Steve’s hip like he needed to be as wrapped up in him as possible.

“Needed to clear my head.” It wasn’t a lie, at least.

Tony nodded against the pillow, “It’s going to be fine; you know. We got the death certificate and the mission report from Afghanistan. T’Challa thinks it will work. He said he’ll make whatever statement you need him to and back you up.”

Tony was so hopeful and committed to making this plan work. To saving Steve. He really didn’t deserve him. This whirlwind of a man that had breezed into Steve’s life and somehow made himself at home there. Steve could feel the spike of guilt in his gut. This plan wouldn’t work, Ross would see through it in a second. The idea of proving Steve Rogers really did die in the desert and setting someone else up to be The Captain. Fury had worked it out, Ross would as well. It was only a matter of time and Steve couldn’t risk it. He had to protect Tony from him and this life before it came down around their heads.

Tony seemed to be in a chatty mood this morning, even without his coffee fix, “If it doesn’t, we could always run away. Get ourselves a nice getaway car, I’ll navigate. We’ll just see where we end up.”

Steve looked at him then, really looked at him, “You would do that? Leave everything behind to run away with me?”

Tony didn’t even hesitate, “If that’s what it took to be together.”

God, he loved him. When had that happened? But that was why he couldn’t let Tony throw away his whole life for someone like Steve. He loved him too much to drag him down into this mess with him and pretend it was love.

The look in Tony’s eyes though, unyielding and passionate and perfect. Steve kissed him, long and deep before pulling back, “We could change our names. Go anyway. Paris? Italy? London? Or find a backwater town that time forgot and stay there.”

Tony nodded, “We’d be Stevens and Potts. Maybe we’d open up a bar like Sam. Cosy hole-in-wall flat above it. It’d be nice.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, eyes drifting away, “It really would.”

It was a nice dream, a game of pretend he knew they’d never get. This would be the last moment of goodness they had together but at least they were both filling it with lies. That made Steve feel better.

At least for a moment.

/

Steve was off running errands shortly after their impromptu morning in bed and by that he meant he was off to see Fury with the information Tony had collected from T’Challa to try and beat Ross at his own game. He wanted to go with him but Tony knew if he walked into Rhodey’s office with Steve in tow there would be no going back and he definitely didn’t need that kind of attention or a lecture right now.

Instead, he let Steve leave him with a downright sinful kiss on the doorstep that left Tony a little dazed and staring after his mob boss as Steve headed towards his car. Realising how lovesick that made him look Tony scrubbed a hand over his face, slamming the front door for good measure. He needed to get to the garage and put in some hours but first he needed coffee and thanks to Natasha he could already smell it brewing from the kitchen.

Tony followed his nose, not spotting the red head anywhere as he made his way over to the coffee machine, stealing Steve’s mug off the side to make his drink. The slow drizzle of espresso into his cup smelt like heaven and as soon as the timer went off he set about adding sugar and a dash of cream to make sure he got that sugar hit fast.

“Did Steve leave already?” The voice startled him and Tony turned round to find Thor standing in the doorway with his hammer in his hands.

Tony swallowed nervously, “Yeah, he’s heading to see Fury. I need to get to work.”

Thor took up a seat at the table, pushing out the chair next to him which Tony figured was as much of an invitation as he was going to get. He nodded to himself, grabbing his mug and settling into the chair on Thor’s left. He watched curiously as Thor brought the hammer onto the table, setting it down with such care. The metal was rusted, flakes of dried blood from god knows how many victims crusted into the weapon. There was a name carved into the handle.

“Who’s Jane?” Tony asked, reading the four letters skilfully carved into the wood.

Thor ran his own fingers down the letters, “Someone from another life.”

“The one who got away?” Tony guessed, bringing the coffee up to his lips to take a sip.

“Something like that.” Thor mused, “The one I pushed out the door, perhaps would be more accurate.”

Tony nodded, “We all make mistakes.”

“I fear our Captain is about to be making a bigger one.” Thor sighed.

“You better have more to this conversation then that one sentence.”

Thor ran his hand over Jane’s name again, “This plan, to prove he’s dead and get someone else to come forward as The Captain. It won’t work. I’ve been up all night thinking about it. I know men like Ross, they don’t believe in reason or coincidence. He’s out of blood and he’ll find it. He isn’t going to let this victory slide on a piece of paper that states Steve Rogers is dead.”

“With T’Challa supporting the story…”

Thor cut him off, “Ross is more likely to arrest T’Challa for disruption of justice than believe him. He’ll start digging, he’ll assume the real Captain is running scared and he’ll know that means he’s close. We’re building up a glass house and asking it not to crack under all our weight. It’s a mistake.”

Tony felt his gut clench, “Steve agreed to it so he must think it’s going to work.”

“Or he’s planning something else incase it doesn’t.” Thor mused, “Our Captain is smart, he’s also not the type of man to gamble with our lives on a maybe. He doesn’t like to leave things up to fate.”

“Shit.” Tony swore, thinking back to his conversation with Steve earlier, how withdrawn he had seemed, how final their kiss at the door felt. “He wouldn’t.”

“I believe he cares for you deeply,” Thor leaned forward, elbows on the table, “And I know he cares for all of us. I’ve never known him to think of himself over any of us.”

Tony could feel his heart rate pick up speed, “Are you sure about Ross? Maybe he just wants a win in Brooklyn so he can go back to where the hell they shipped him in from.”

“You know when Steve found me, I was staring down four cops with guns. I was covered in blood, lost in rage and grief and willing to be shot down in the street to make them stop.” Thor replied, “Those were dark days. I didn’t know why Steve helped me; it was only later after he recruited me that I learnt he’d been following my movements for a while. He needed more muscle for his team, and I was ruthless. When I was about to give it all up, he came speeding into the street like a race car driver. Told me to get in if I wanted to live.”

Tony frowned, “You went with him? You didn’t even know him.”

“No, but I knew staying meant death. I guess I was too much of a coward to die without finishing what I started.” Thor replied, “I realised afterwards when Steve was offering me a job that what he saw in me was the same thing he recognised in himself.”

“What was that?” Tony pressed, coffee all but forgotten on the side as he listened.

Thor sighed, “Darkness. A frayed part of our souls that refused to let go. It’s a kind of desperation that drives darkness like that. A need to protect, to avenge the people you care about no matter what the cost.”

“Is that why you started killing people? To avenge Jane?” Tony asked.

“Loki.” Thor replied, “My brother. He got caught up in something and he died for it and my only thought was to find whoever did it and make them pay. That was my only purpose after I failed to protect him. It was the only thing I could do for him.”

Tony nodded, “You still haven’t found Loki’s killer?”

“I’m getting closer. Steve has been helping me for years, using his leads and contacts to get information. I’ll find him,” Thor said with a venom that Tony had never heard him possess before, “My point is, that darkness Steve and I both share. Steve knows if he fails this family, he’ll end up like me. He’ll be the same kind of monster I am but there won’t be anyone to save him like he saved me. He’ll do anything to stop that from happening.”

Tony understood instantly, “And he won’t risk it on a plan that wasn’t 100% fool proof. He never believed this plan was going to work. He just wanted us to think he did.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Tony pulled it out to see Steve’s name on the screen. It hit the message to open it up.

**Can you come to the docks? We need to talk.**

Tony read it twice and then swore under his breath. This wasn’t good. He could feel it making the hairs on the back of his neck standing up on end. He was out of his seat before he even replied.

“Steve wants to meet me at the docks.” Tony told Thor, abandoning his still nearly full mug of coffee in his haste, “Fuck.”

“If anyone can get him to see reason it’s you, Tony. I truly believe that.” Thor told him, once again his hand returned to the name etched into his hammer.

Tony could only hope Thor was right.

/

Steve was already waiting when Tony arrived, his leather jacket was zipped up to keep out the cold and the waves crashed into the rocks behind it. It might have been beautiful if the weight of what he was about to do didn’t cling heavily in his chest.

Tony looked cold, a red tint to his nose and cheeks as he shoved his hands in his pockets and jogged across the street to meet Steve. His whiskey brown eyes looked worried and it took everything Steve had not to instantly wrap Tony up in his arms. He couldn’t, it’d make this so much harder.

Steve stood straight, putting his own hands in his pockets so Tony couldn’t see them shake. Tony seemed to sense something was off, keeping some distance between them instead of closing the gap like he normally would.

The skies above them were grey and looming, rain would probably hit before the night was out but what Steve wouldn’t give to stand here with Tony for another day, another month, another year. Just to be able to stay with him.

But they were out of time.

“Thanks for coming.” Steve told him and he hated out much that made it sound like a business transaction.

Tony shuffled from foot to foot, “Just tell me why I’m here, Steve.” There was an edge to his voice, an accusation hiding behind his words. Steve wondered how much he really knew. His mechanic was always as sharp as a pin.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Steve whispered the words into the space between them like an offering, an apology, like a goddamn coward who couldn’t even meet Tony’s eyes as he said it. He needed to do this though. He needed to set Tony free and protect him from any retaliations that might come his way when Steve wasn’t around to protect him himself. This is what Phillips had taught him. No loose ends. No strings. No trails.

Tony was silent for a long time and Steve hated it, he could almost imagine him turning the statement over in his mind, “What?” He said bluntly and his voice sounded odd after the silence before it.

“I said…”

Tony cut him off, “I heard you.” He spat out, “Since when?”

“I’m not right for you, Tony.”

“Bullshit.”

God, he loved this man, “You’re not right for me, either.”

“Bullshit.”

“I thought I wanted this, but I don’t. I can’t. I’m sorry.” Steve sighed, dropping his head lower so he didn’t have to see the way Tony looked at him.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, “It seemed like you wanted it this morning when you were blowing me but maybe I read that wrong.” The venom in his voice was something Steve never wanted aimed at him and yet he knew he deserved every second of it.

He lifted his head, seeing the glaze of Tony’s eyes and the way he held his shoulders too stiffly, “I’m sorry. I’m doing this for you.”

Please believe me, Steve wanted to add.

Tony scoffed, “You’re doing this for you.” He replied, “I know, okay? Thor and I worked out your little plan. You’re going to hand yourself over to Rumlow? To protect us? What a fucking hero, Steve. We didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for this. It’s not your job to protect me, okay.”

It was in that moment Steve could almost believe Tony might love him too.

He needed to destroy it. It was the only way to get Tony to stop fighting.

“I’m not handing myself over to Rumlow, but this plan won’t work and when it fails, you’ll all be in the firing line.” Steve replied, “So, you need to walk away. Now. Forget about me. I can’t give you anything.”

“I don’t want anything.” Tony said, “I never did. All I ever wanted was you.”

Steve knew what he had to say now, he knew Tony well enough to know how to end this but the words died in his throat. Forgive me, he wanted to beg and throw himself down to his knees in the dirty, I never deserved you.

“I don’t want you.” Steve got out with a shaky breath and he knew immediately the moment Tony registered those words. His eyes grew wide and his lower jaw trembled, “I don’t feel anything for you. I’m sorry.”

He expected Tony to hit him. He wanted Tony to hit him. They needed to make this real for any Hydra goons watching. It was why Steve picked the docks. A public location near Hydra’s base. He needed to send a message that the mechanic wasn’t important, it was the only way to protect Tony from Hydra. Leaving him was the only way to protect Tony from ending up in a cell next to him as an accomplice.

Tony didn’t hit him. Tony was a better man than his father. He was a better man than Steve. He sniffed the air to collect himself and took a deep breath. Steve watched as the wind whipped at his dark hair and his brown eyes filled with tears he was refusing to shred in front of Steve. Strong, resilient Tony Stark. He was worth ten of Steve and now he had a chance to live.

Steve expected him to walk away so he was mildly surprised when Tony took a step closer to him. These next words were for Steve and Steve only as Tony’s heart broke and he shoved it into Steve’s hand like a metaphorical fuck you, “if this isn’t part of some plan, give me a sign that you’re actually the want who wants this.” Tony said low and deadly. It was an ultimatum, but Steve couldn’t take it.

Forgive me, he pleaded silently, punch me. Be disgusted, be angry, be repulsed but please don’t be this.

“This is about survival. You make me weak and it’s going to get me killed. It’s going to get them killed, Bucky was right. I’ve killed people for a lot less than that, Tony.” Steve told him, trying not to let his own tears fall.

The words did the trick, anger flashed in Tony’s eyes, “You want to kill me, go right ahead.” He sneered, “Maybe admitting that you feel something for me will be easier for you when I’m six feet under.”

He was already walking away before Steve could answer and he was thankful. Steve felt his knees give way and had to grab the railing behind him for support as he felt a tear roll down his cheek.

He’d done it. He’d destroy one of the best things in his life in order to protect it.

He felt hollow and everything in him wanted to scream out to Tony. He couldn’t. This was the right thing to do.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to get Tony Stark’s face out of his mind as he ripped his heart out and Steve’s only hope was that one day, he’d understand he had ripped out his own right along with it.

He pushed himself off the railing, scrubbing at his hand with one hand. He sent off two texts, one to Rumlow and one to Fury.

It was time.

/

Tony had been a complete idiot, he’d let Steve in, and Steve had repaid it by using it against him. He should have seen it coming, whether this was Steve’s failed attempt to protect him or not. Steve was an idiot and Tony was an even bigger one. Tony wasn’t so sure what Steve’s motivates were anymore, at first, he thought he understood what was happening. Steve had his own plan and he was trying to push Tony away to protect him but then he’d said that stuff about not really caring and survival and now Tony was questioning whether their whole relationship meant something different to Steve than it did to him.

Was Steve really playing him this whole time? All those looks and kisses and sex that seemed to be breaking down both their walls and securing their intimacy. Was it all just nothing to Steve whilst it had meant everything to Tony? Steve had stood there and said the things he knew would hurt Tony, he’d thrown them at him with nothing more than a sorry and what was Tony meant to do with sorry now? Steve was standing there like the mob boss he was, the mob boss Tony had fallen for. Hadn’t he known what he was getting into?

Didn’t he want this? When he had signed up for this thing with Steve, hadn’t he known it was heading here? Tony had offered Steve his home, his body, his heart willingly because there was something about Steve that drew him in, something he couldn’t say no to.

Didn’t he want this?

Didn’t he want this?

Didn’t he want this?

Deep down had he always known it wasn’t going to last, was that why he sought Steve out? Someone as damaged and incapable of love as he was. Had Tony been setting himself up for failure this whole time or ignoring the warning signs because if it was Steve pulling the trigger then he was happy to get shot.

Tony’s feet were carrying him to a safe harbour without his mind really registering it but he let his shoulders slump with relief at the sight of Rhodey in front of his eyes, sitting behind his desk at the police station with a frown on his face and paperwork stacked up around him. Tony couldn’t even remember getting up to Rhodey’s office but he was glad he was here. Rhodey had always been good at picking up his pieces and it was selfish but it was better than reaching for a drink so it’s all he had.

Rhodey seemed to spy him through the glass that separated them, one look at Tony’s face and he was on his feet. Tony’s cheeks were still red with the cold, tears streaking down his face with his hair a mess and Rhodey instantly knew he needed him. What a friend, what a brother. Tony pushed the door open to Rhodey’s office before all but tumbling into his arms. He was exhausted and weary and heartbroken.

He clung to Rhodey greedily, hands wrapping around him as Tony buried his nose into Rhodey’s shoulder and inhaled the scent of spices and stale coffee that clung to Rhodey since he joined the force. Rhodey held him in a fierce grip, protective and safe. Tony wanted to start crying all over again.

“Okay, who do I need to arrest?” Rhodey asked gruffly, he sounded like he needed a good night’s sleep. The question was meant to make Tony laugh, but the realness of the situation had him sniffling again.

“I’m an idiot.” Tony muttered into Rhodey’s shirt, hating himself for wanting to pretend Rhodey’s arms were Steve’s for a moment.

Rhodey pulled back gently, bodily forcing Tony into the nearest chair as he crouched down next to him, “You’ve got to clue me in on this one, Tones.”

“You’ll get mad.” Tony muttered, not looking at Rhodey because he didn’t want to start crying again. God, since when was he this emotional? Damn Steve Rogers straight to hell.

Rhodey quirked an eyebrow, “I’m already mad, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Oh, how right Rhodey was.

“I met someone.” Tony started softly, unsure how to tell Rhodey the full extent of it without telling him about Steve. He couldn’t handle that disappointment on Rhodey’s face today as well.

Rhodey sensed where this story was going, “What did the son of a bitch do?” He was checking Tony for injuries like it was second nature, “I’ll kill him.”

Tony pushed his hands away, “He didn’t touch me.” Tony promised, “I thought he was special, I thought we… I was wrong, the sun came up and reality set in.”

Rhodey’s face softened, “Oh Tony.”

“I don’t need pity, okay?” Tony replied, “I’m fine, totally. I just wanted to come and save you from your desk with pizza and maybe a movie?”

Tony’s eyes were pleading, he needed this. He needed Rhodey but he wasn’t good at telling people he needed them so he did this. He hid it behind sarcasm and wit and hoped they didn’t notice. Rhodey knew him better than that.

“I am dying here.” He smiled, squeezing Tony’s shoulder as he stood up, “I can clock out early. Nothing’s happening on this gang case anyway.”

Tony’s ears pricked up, “Gang case? The Captain, right? I saw the news.” He hated himself for even caring.

Rhodey sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry. We’re waiting for the ink to dry on the arrest warrant and we’ve got the bastard. He’ll be locked up before Christmas.”

“Right,” Tony nodded, “Good riddance and all that.”

/

Steve was walking along the docks at a casual pace, slow and controlled like he had all the time in the world. He had told Rumlow he was on his way to hand himself over, Rumlow had won and was probably already digging Steve’s shallow grave as he walked. Steve would have made him dig it himself but then Rumlow was probably just eager to have it done so he could sit on the throne.

He’s stomach was in knots over Tony and his heart thundered loudly in his chest. He was almost there, this had to be done now.

He forced himself not to look over his shoulder, he couldn’t look jumpy. He had to be in control of this situation. He was The Captain, even with a broken heart and no way out, his audience would expect that of him.

He turned around another corner, the shipment yards in view up ahead. Steve slowed his pace again, eyes on the sky. It wasn’t raining yet, he wondered when the next time he saw rain would be?

The sirens came suddenly and called to him like a final bell toll. This was it; The Captain was about to meet his maker. There might be eyes scouting out the noise and he hoped Rumlow was watching. He needed him to see this. He needed him to know what the end looked like.

The cars, two of them which seemed a bit full on to Steve but apparently the police were making a statement of their own, pulled up in front of him in a screeching holt. They blocked off Steve’s path, Steve stalled on the street and watched as cops piled out of the vehicles, guns drawn and raised at him as they formed some sort of line. Had they rehearsed this?

“Captain, you’re under arrest. Put your hands behind your head and stand down.” It was Fury’s voice through the crowd as he walked towards Steve with handcuffs.

Steve smiled, “Sorry, I really have to be somewhere. Nice talking to you fellas.” He started walking again. A trigger-happy cop shot off a warning shot that hit the brick wall a few feet away from Steve. Sloppy.

“That wasn’t a request.” Fury called out to him, “You’re done, Rogers.” He was enjoying this.

Steve sighed, “Look who got off their ass and decided to do something.”

Fury was close enough to smash his foot into the back of Steve’s calf forcing him down whilst he cuffed his hands behind his back, “You’re a goddamn son of a bitch, you know that?” Fury whispered harshly in his ear as he secured the cuffs.

Steve winced at the metal chaffing his wrists, “Thanks for the pick-up.” He replied softly as Fury helped him to his feet.

Fury had a tight grip on his arm, roughly tugging him to show his victory to his team, “I hope you know what you’re doing.” He said lowly for only Steve to hear and then the moment was over, Steve was passed into another pair of hands and all but shoved into the back of a police van with several officers piling in after him.

He really hoped he knew was he was doing too.

The doors slammed shut as the rain started to pour.

The Captain had fallen.


	16. Chapter 16

The best and worst thing about Rhodey was how much he cared. He wasn’t about to let Tony wallow over some guy and he definitely wasn’t going to let Tony shove the covers over his head and waste his days away in bed trying not to think about how his sheets smelt faintly of Steve or that he could see one of his shirts poking out of the corner of his washing pile.

To Rhodey’s grace he allowed Tony two days, although Tony suspected that was only because he was suddenly called into work the morning after their impromptu movie night with a phone call. Tony had tried to ask what was wrong but Rhodey had shrugged his shoulders into his jacket, gave Tony another hug and told him he’d be back soon.

It seemed everyone in his life was checking out.

Deep down, Tony knew that was a harsh statement. Of course, Rhodey had to work. He was a cop; it was his job. Just like Tony had a job to get back to, one that Peter was solely keeping afloat right now whilst Tony wallowed in his breakup like a teenager. It wasn’t fair to the kid. It wasn’t fair to himself either.

Okay, Steve left. Steve was probably making the smart decision, he was all wrong for Tony, wasn’t he? That was why Tony hadn’t told Rhodey about him yet. He knew every word Steve said at the docks had been right and he was too ashamed to admit it to him. Maybe Steve did him a favour. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t beyond angry though. Whether Steve was right in his decision or not, Tony knew he was running scared and that pissed him off more than anything. He’d never met anyone who was as good at self-sabotage as he was.

Perhaps he’d met his match in Steve Rogers.

But that was done now, and Tony really needed to stop thinking about it otherwise he was going to waste another day wrapped in his covers and avoiding his life. He could do this; Steve hadn’t broken him. He hadn’t touched a drink and he sought out Rhodey instead of dealing with this alone. He was making smart choices again. He was going to be fine.

Tony heaved himself out of bed with more effort than it normally took, still cocooned in his covers as he made his way to the bathroom with them around his shoulders like a cape. He stumbled bleary eyed against the harsh lighting as he took a look in the mirror.

God, he needed a shower.

His hair was everywhere, sticking up in all directions and definitely needed a wash. His skin was sallow and there were dark circles under his eyes that showed how little sleep he’d gotten. Well, fuck you Steve Rogers. This was fine, a hot shower and coffee and he’d be good as new.

Tony sighed at himself in the mirror, letting the covers drop to the floor as a mark of his commitment to this plan. He needed a sandwich too, maybe a sub from Peter’s favourite shop. He could bring the kid one too as a peace offering.

He started the shower, letting the water heat up before ditching his clothes and stepping under the spray. It helped, the warmth spreading across his body as he shoved his hair under the stream. He was feeling progressively more human than before and Tony decided that showers might just be the best things ever invented in that moment.

By the time he was out and ready to leave the apartment he felt better. He hadn’t thought about Steve in at least an hour, okay only once in the shower but it wasn’t his fault. His mind was a damn traitor. He shrugged on his jacket, texted Peter to say he was on his way in and he was off.

It had snowed overnight, as Brooklyn often did for this time of year. Everything was coated in a brilliant white that hurt Tony’s eyes and had him wishing he picked a warmer jacket for the weather, but he continued on regardless. He walked to work most days, preferring that short walk to trying to keep his cool in the city morning traffic.

The snow crunched under his feet, wet and slippery as it turned to slosh. He hated winter. Tony shoved his hands in his pockets with a scowl and kept moving, the sooner he was at the garage, the better.

He took a left, seeing a figure out of the corner of his eye quickly duck into a shop doorway. He frowned but thought nothing of it, everyone was out this morning. Last minute Christmas shopping probably. Tony continued on his way, feeling cautious about the sound of soft treads in the snow behind him.

It was silly but he picked up his pace, he’d been around Steve long enough to know to trust his gut. There he went again, thinking about Steve. Damn it. Tony hooked a right, slipping down the alley in between two high-rises to take a shortcut. He couldn’t hear the tread falls anymore but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed. As he reached the end of the alley, he dared to take a look behind him. At first, he thought he saw a flash of something, but it was over so quickly he couldn’t be sure.

Was this Hydra? Now he wasn’t under Steve’s protection were they trying to kidnap him for their side again? Or perhaps it was Steve? Come to finish the job and finally kill Tony to get him out the way?

Tony sighed, “Whoever you are, you better show yourself now!” He shouted, feeling like an idiot for even doing it, “I’m serious. I’m armed and I’m pissed off.”

There was a beat. A moment where Tony thought he was going crazy and then a figure walked into view. Black coat, brilliant red hair. Natasha.

“Easy there,” She smiled, hands raised in a mocking surrender, “What are you going to do? Stab me with your keys?”

Tony blanched at the thought, “Why are you here? Are you following me?”

“Steve asked me too.”

Tony wanted to laugh or throw something. He wasn’t sure which. “Well, I think he probably meant to cancel that order when we broke up.”

Natasha shook her head, closing the distance between them. Her footing was graceful, even in the snow, “He gave me the order after he broke up with you. He called me, told me to watch out for you. Protect you. Then he hung up.”

“Look, Steve made his feelings perfectly clear, okay? You don’t need to a babysit me. I’m not going to sell him out because he hurt my feelings.” Tony told her, if he had wanted that then he would have told Rhodey everything but even now, even when he was hurting, he was still protecting Steve.

Natasha gave him a sad smile, “That’s not why I’m here and you know it. He wants you protected because he cares about you.”

“He broke up with me, Nat. It’s done. He made that clear.”

“Well, he’s an idiot.” She gave him a wide smile like she’d just shared a secret, “And he was wrong. He probably knows it too. I told you, Steve loves to protect everyone else by throwing his ass in the fire. It’s just what he does.”

Tony sighed, “What does this have to do with me?”

“You’re family, aren’t you?” Natasha asked him, “You care about him?”

“I don’t think…”

Natasha’s voice dropped lower, “He’s been arrested. Police picked him up a few days ago and are holding him here in Brooklyn. Ross will conduct the investigation here and then they’ll probably move him to a bigger state for the trial.”

“How did they even manage to take him?” Tony asked, everything clicking into place, “He set himself up. For us.”

“Sounds like Steve.” Natasha sighed, “We’ve got cops on our payroll. Apparently, Ross hasn’t even interviewed him yet. He’s waiting for something. Trying to break him before he puts him in an interview room. I don’t know.”

“We can’t let him go to jail for this, Nat.” Tony’s eyes were frantic, “I’m not saying he’s a good guy, but he doesn’t deserve jail.”

Natasha gripped his hands, hers were cold but she held Tony’s fingers firmly, “He isn’t going to jail. We’ll fix it. As a family.”

Tony understood the meaning behind her eyes as they bore into his. She was offering him a chance, an olive branch. She was seeing if he was with them. Tony found himself replying before he could even think his answer though, “Okay. Let’s get our self-sacrificing idiot back.”

“You know, he’s killed people for calling him that.” Natasha said but there was a smirk on her face.

Tony nodded, “When I see him again, I might just kill him first for all of this bullshit.”

Natasha’s smile only grew, “Let’s head back to the house. Everyone is there.”

“No, wait. I need to go to work.” Tony sighed, “I’ve left Peter there for two days now. I need to show my face. I’ll meet you after my shift, okay? Start planning without me and I’ll catch up when I get there.”

“Okay but take this.” Natasha replied, drawing a knife out of her pocket and shoving it into Tony’s direction.

Tony took a step back, “No way, I can’t.”

“You’re an Avenger now. If Rumlow comes for us, then you need to be able to protect yourself.” She replied.

“I don’t even know how to use it.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, closing Tony’s fingers firmly around the knife in his hand, “You find a soft spot and push.”

Tony didn’t reply, staring at the weapon in his hands with wide eyes and a grim expression.

/

By the time Tony made it back to Steve’s place it was already dark out, the knife Natasha had given him like a lead weight in his pocket the entire day. It was weird, to be there without Steve, to even be climbing those steps up to the front door again when Tony was sure it was something he’d never do.

Natasha was waiting for him at the front door, clearly she had been watching for his arrival. Tony gave her a small wave as he made his way to her. Was this his life now? Meeting with gang members, being an active member. A part of him wondered whether it was smart to accept Natasha’s offer or whether he should have simply walked away when Steve gave him that out. The thought of Steve in a cold grey cell just didn’t sit right with him, Tony knew he couldn’t leave Steve there, not even to save his own skin. It went against everything he knew about survival but here he was, greeting Natasha and slipping into the warmth of Steve’s family home to help a man who didn’t even want him anymore.

Pathetic.

Everyone was waiting for him. A packed-out living room full of Steve’s family without their leader. It was an odd scene, there was a sombre tone to the air that didn’t work with the happy teasing family Tony knew them to be. Natasha ushered him further into the room, pressing him into a seat.

Tony took up the right end of the couch, Thor sat next to him and gave him a smile and a pat on the back in greeting. Bruce was in the arm chair, a mug in his hands that if Tony had to guess was the only thing keeping him awake right now. He looked tired, wrecked. Had he been volunteering at the clinic today? Bucky sat on the edge of the arm of Bruce’s chair, arms crossed. He was the only one who didn’t look happy to see Tony but he wasn’t quite scowling yet so Tony would take that as a win. Sam and Clint were the only ones missing and Tony wondered where they were, what was more important than finding out how to free Steve?

Natasha stood in the centre of the room, a place that Steve would have normally taken up if he was there. She looked unnatural in the position, her shoulders set and her jumper two sizes too big for her.

“We’re still waiting on Sam and Clint. They were patrolling the shipment yards today. Trying to find Rumlow’s operation.” Natasha told him softly, crossing her arms over her body.

Tony nodded, that made sense. That was what Steve had wanted them to do. It was weird to watch them without a leader. Without a direction. They were still formidable but there was something missing. A sort of glue that held them firmly together. They were all just drifting in the same stream right now, it was almost heart breaking to watch as a family fell apart over losing one of their own and desperately tried to hold it together. Tony was a part of this family now, he realised. Not just because Steve had brought him in, and they had made a vote. Not because Natasha had come for him earlier. But because he too was feeling that same sense of drifting without Steve that the rest of them were. There were all united in that at least, and that for now would be enough.

“We need to break him out of jail.” Tony said aloud, not really registering then he’d even voiced the words until all eyes were on him. He knew he couldn’t take it back now, but he had thought about this. It had been the only thing he had managed to think about today. There was only a small window for them to get to Steve and it had to be whilst he was still in the city. When Ross charged him and moved him for a trial there would be no hope of getting to him, Ross would make sure of that.

But to get to him here, with cops on the payroll and in a city they all knew so well they could make it work. It was their best chance and it was the only chance they had.

“Are you crazy?” Bucky asked, “We can’t just storm a police station.”

“We don’t need to.” Tony told him, “We just need to be smart. You guys have cops in the station that work for you right? T’Challa has pull in Congress and you know he’ll help. We have the resources; we just need to think outside the box.”

Thor nodded, “It does make sense, Ross already has him. He won’t expect us to try and come for him. He already believes he’s won.”

“It’s risky,” Natasha sighed, “Too many variables. We don’t know what cell he’s in. We don’t know what kind of watch Ross has him under. Too many cameras. No way to get him out.”

“Then we find solutions.” Tony replied, getting up off the couch to stand with Natasha so he could see everyone properly, “I used to do this for a living, okay? Finding problems for mistakes at Stark Industries was literally my summer internship.”

Bucky frowned, “Okay, give us a plan.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, was that a challenge? Tony nodded and got to work, “First problem. Cameras. They’ll be everywhere. It will take too long to disable them one by one. Someone will realise we’re coming by then. We need a way to take them all offline at the exact same time. Luckily, I helped develop a similar device for the Freedom Line my father put together a few years ago. I can recreate it, a small device I can activate from a remote switch that will fry the cameras and make it seem like a computer glitch.”

Bucky seemed impressed, “Freedom Line?”

“My dad’s an asshole.” Tony offered with a grin.

“I can get us a schematic of the building from T’Challa. The station is newly built as part of his campaign on putting the police force at the heart of Brooklyn. He’ll have the plans on file.” Natasha added in, “It will help narrow down our target area.”

Tony nodded, that was good.

“We still need a way to find out what cell he’s in and how heavily guarded he is.” Thor cut in.

“We need to get on the inside.” Tony replied, “I can do it. Rhodey is working on the unit under Ross. He’s my best friend. I can get in to see Steve.”

Natasha sighed, “It shouldn’t be you, Tony.”

“It has to be me.” Tony replied, “I’m the only one who isn’t related to The Avengers. The only one Rhodey might let through the door to see him.”

“How are you going to persuade him to do that?” Bucky asked cautiously, “Friend or not, he isn’t about to let you have a talk with a criminal because you ask nicely.”

Tony paused for a moment, Bucky had a point, “No, but as my best friend he’ll want me to have the last say on the end of my relationship. He buys into the whole idea of closure and stuff, he always has. Once got me to burn a picture of Howard from the paper in order to let those years of my life go or something. That’s just Rhodey, he’s good like that.”

It was Bruce who replied, “Tony, are you okay with this? You’d be lying to your best friend. You’d be manipulating him into helping free a mobster.”

“Rhodey… will understand.” Tony sighed, “I hope. He’ll trust me. He’ll know if I’m doing this then there is a good reason. Besides, he hates Ross.”

Natasha seemed to sense the shift in Tony’s resolve and quickly moved on, “Okay, you get in to see Steve. You disable the cameras. Then what? No way to get you both out of there without Ross issuing a warrant for your arrest as well.”

“What if I slip Steve a way out? I’ll make something he can use to open the cell door. The schematics will show what kind of locking system there is, and I can use that to create a small device to that frequency to open the lock. I leave the station, Steve goes back to his cell, he gets himself out. We’re waiting, ready for the extraction.” Tony finished, amazed at his own self-confidence to build such a device that would secure Steve’s freedom.

Thor looked at Natasha, “Would that work?”

Natasha’s eyes were on Tony, “It’s the best chance we have.”

“We’re all forgetting one very big variable in this plan.” Bucky cut in, “Steve. If we’re right and he set himself up for the fall, then he isn’t exactly going to be happy we’re busting him out.”

“Tony will get through to him.” Thor replied with confidence.

Tony gave him a meek smile. Really, on top of everything else he had to convince Steve to stop being an idiot and save himself? They were all doomed.

The front door opened and slammed shut with enough force to shake the windows in the living room and in seconds Sam and Clint were in the doorway. Sam had Clint’s arm slung around his shoulders, half dragging him through the doorway as his fingers squeezed at Clint’s side. Clint was sweaty and his eyes were unfocused as Sam heaved him over to the couch. Thor immediately got out the way as Bruce hoovered over the head of the arm, assessing the damage with his eyes. Sam’s face with dotted with blood splatter and Clint let out a groan.

“Clint’s been hit!” Sam said frantically, shoving Clint gently onto the couch before backing away. Bruce slid into his place, kneeling down on the floor as his hands went to Clint’s side.

Tony watched in shock as Bruce pulled up Clint’s jacket and shirt to reveal the gunshot wound, sluggishly oozing blood down his stomach. He pressed against the skin with gentle hands and Clint swore.

“What happened?” Bucky demanded, eyes on Clint as Bruce worked.

“Hydra made us, they fired. We fired back. We made a run for cover and Clint got hit. We found the base of operations though. Shipment yard, the old factory containers on the east side. Rumlow looks to be setting up shop.” Sam told them, wincing as Bruce felt around the wound on Clint’s side.

“Thor grab my medical grab from the kitchen. We need to get this bullet out.” Bruce told him and Thor was off in an instant, “Clint, you’re going to be fine. It’s not deep but I need to take the bullet out, okay?”

Clint grunted, “Bring alcohol!” He shouted out to Thor as he slumped his head back against the cushions.

“Are you sure you know what you’re signing up for?” The question startled Tony out of his frozen state, eyes locked onto Clint bleeding out on the sofa. His head whipped round to find Bucky standing next to him, clearly wondering if Tony was about to throw up.

Tony clenched his jaw, eyes meeting Bucky’s with a fierce determination, “Let’s just get Steve out, okay? We can’t defeat Hydra without him.”

Bucky nodded once, sharp and short before walking away, heading out to the kitchen to presumably find Clint some alcohol. Natasha was still at his side and she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, “He likes you; you know?”

“He really doesn’t.”

“Maybe not.” Natasha agreed, “But he likes that you’re here. Willing to help Steve. Bucky responds to loyalty. He always has.”

“I’m not looking for his approval.” Tony told her honestly, eyes back on Clint as Thor returned with Bruce’s bag.

Natasha’s eyes drifted to the patient as well, “I know. If we live through this, you’ll make a damn fine Avenger.”

Tony scoffed, “If we live through this I might just have to tie Steve up in the basement, so he doesn’t pull this shit again.”

“He might like that.”

Tony had the decency to blush at her statement.

/

It had been days and Steve was only just being brought from his cell into an interview room. Ross’ doing no doubt, waiting Steve out. Proving who held the power now. As if Steve could forget after glancing down at the ugly orange ensemble they’d given him when they booked him in at the station and checked him for weapons. They’d taken fingerprints and swab samples of his DNA, told him to change and shoved him in a cell. Fury watched over the entire thing with a guarded expression. Steve tried to avoid his gaze.

Now though it seemed Ross was bored and wanted to play. Steve was herded into the room, escorted on all sides like an animal as the cops shoved him into a chair and cuffed his hands back up to the table.

Classy.

They left him alone in the room after that, Steve watched the seconds tick by on the clock mounted on the wall as he waited for Ross. Another display of power he was making sure Steve understood. He ran the show now, Steve was simply there to watch.

Men and their fucking egos.

He watched, the ticking sound from the clock marking the passage of time. Ross might have thought this was his show but Steve knew better. It was _his_. He was sitting here in this room at Ross’ mercy because he’d made it so. He’d told Fury where’d he’d be. He set this up. That was why Steve was going to win. He held his power quietly whilst Ross boasted about his from the rooftops. A smug man never stayed on top long.

Steve just had to wait and play the game, and thanks to Ross he was getting good at waiting.

He’d turned his back on his family, he’d hurt Tony, just to arrive at this moment. Steve wasn’t about to throw that away. Rumlow would have seen his arrest, that’s why he made it so public. As far as Rumlow knew he was on his way to hand himself over. It was the cops that were the ones standing in the way of his glory now, not Steve. They had simply gotten to him first, something that would drive Rumlow crazy after coming so close to his victory.

The cops were easy now, Steve could play them at their own game. Give them what they wanted in exchange for the protection of his family. Ross wouldn’t want to make the deal but he’d need a win on this case and Steve was the prize. He’d be forced to make it. He’d get Rumlow too for his troubles so really he’d become an overnight hero.

His family would be safe and untouchable in the eyes of the law. They’d just need to pick up the pieces of what was left of Hydra. It was perfect. They’d need someone to blame when Steve got sentenced and he knew they’d make sure Hydra was dead and buried in the ground before his trial. His team were efficient like that.

Tony, that one was the killer, the one thing Steve couldn’t make peace with despite having days in a cell to do just that. He’d seen the look in his eyes at the docks, Steve had hurt him and for that he would never forgive himself. He would add that to the list of sins Ross was no doubt about the discuss with him.

Everyone would get a happy ending this way.

Well, everyone except Steve but he didn’t deserve one. He, much like Rumlow, deserved everything that was coming to them and Brooklyn would heal like a scab once they were gone until they were forgotten about. Two men who once owned a city that fought back. It might even be poetic one day.

The door opened and drew Steve’s attention back into the room. Ross wasn’t what he imagined, he was older and his face sharper than Steve had pictured. Fury was in the room with him, taking a seat on the other side of the table to Steve without so much as sparing him with a glance. He almost looked uncomfortable to be there; Steve wondered why that was.

“Captain.” Ross sneered the name at him with malice.

Steve leaned back in his chair, “Officers.”

“Can you confirm your name is Steve Rogers?” Ross asked, eyes on the papers he’d brought with him.

“Wrong question.” Steve told him.

Ross scowled, “Did you kill three of our cops when they stumbled upon your gang activity?”

“Wrong again.”

“How did you get out of the desert?” Ross tried a third time.

Steve sighed, “I thought you’d be smarter than this.”

“Listen here,” Ross breathed out, “I will make sure your trial is as public and as long as OJ’s. Everyone will know your name and your face and the things you’ve done. By the time I’m done with you they will be asking to move you to a state that offers the death penalty.”

“What’s the right question?” Fury asked cautiously, eyes meeting Steve’s for the first time.

Ross was fuming in his seat next to Fury as Steve smiled, “What’s Hydra’s play?”

“You know?” Fury questioned, keeping his voice level and playing dumb.

Ross didn’t appreciate having his interview taken over, “I’ll get Hydra too, don’t worry.”

“Not in time.” Steve replied.

“What does that mean?” Ross pressed.

Steve paused for a moment wondering how to handle this next bit, “Bombs. You want to know more? I’m going to need a little more communication with you and a little less of the pissing contest. We get it, Ross, you’ve got a big stick. Mine’s bigger and right now, you need my help.”

Ross barked out a laugh, “You want to bargain for your freedom?”

“No, I want to bargain for my team’s.”

“You could ask for anything you want right now, and you worry about other people?” Ross frowned, “That sounds a little naïve to me.”

Steve sighed, leaning forward so his elbows were on the table, “Do you have a family? People you care about? People you want to protect?” Ross’ silence was deafening and gave Steve all the answer he needed, “Then I don’t expect you to understand why I’m doing any of this.”

Ross nodded, “So, you tell me Hydra’s plan and I give your team immunity? That’s your play?”

“I’m going to give you so much more than that.” Steve replied, “I’ll give you Hydra’s leader. His name, his background, his plan. I’ll give you his contacts in the government and your own police force and I’ll even go so far as to give you all the evidence you need to put him away.”

Both cops were silent, and Steve could see them mulling it over. It was the offer of a lifetime, the chance for Ross to achieve everything he came to Brooklyn for before Christmas and without innocent bloodshed. It was tempting and he’d be a fool not to take it.

It appeared Ross was no fool.

“I’ll grant your team immunity once you’ve proven your information to be worth it. In writing because I know how paranoid you mob boss types get.” Ross agreed, “But I want something else as well.”

Steve frowned, “I’m already in chains. What else can I give you?”

“Your confession.” Ross stated, “In full and in writing.”

So, that was it. He wanted to make sure Steve didn’t have something up his sleeve to get himself off the hook for this. A written confession would make a trial very easy and assure Ross the conviction he needed from The Captain. It was smart.

“Written confession after the immunity, not before.” Steve replied, “I really have to insist on that. I want Detective Fury in charge of it. Not you.”

Ross frowned, “Fury isn’t trained for…”

“I trust him.” Steve replied, looking at Fury with an easy smile, “He’s got a good face. Must be the eyepatch.”

Ross leaned forward then, hands spread out over the papers on the desk in front of him, “I bet you think you’re really good at this. The great Captain, lording over everyone, but I can assure you Mr Rogers, you will never see your family again.”

Steve held firm, Ross was trying to get to him, and Steve couldn’t afford to rise to it, “Your right eye twitches when you’re intimated, has anyone ever told you that?”

Ross shoved his chair back and stood up, eyes burning into Steve’s face. Steve was daring him, blue eyes wide with defiance. Then the moment broke, and Ross strode out of the room with a stalk that created more noise than when he had first entered.

Steve sighed, sliding back into his chair as Fury set up collecting up Ross’ papers. “That was stupid.” Fury muttered so Steve could barely pick it up, “And brilliant.”

Steve smirked, “He’s an asshole.”

“Most cops are.” Fury replied, tucking the papers under his arm, “You really going to give him your confession?”

Steve shrugged, “Once my family are safe.”

“And if they’re not?” Fury pressed.

“What does that mean?” Steve hissed out, voice low and harsh.

Fury looked behind him quickly out the open door, checking they were still alone, “We got word of a gunfight at the shipment yard. Three Hydra dead. One Avenger shot. The turf war started yesterday evening. That’s why Ross is so riled. He needs to get Rumlow before the streets get bloody.”

“Which Avenger?” Steve demanded, heart racing.

“I don’t know. No body was found.” Fury replied.

“Well, fucking find out.” Steve snapped.

Fury left the room, turning on his heel with the papers under his arm. Steve waited for his guards to come and bring him back to his cell, his mind on which member of his family was injured and possibly dead whilst he was rotting in a cell, all because Rumlow decided to go and get greedy.

/

Tony felt sick as he made his way up to Rhodey’s office the next morning. He smelt of sweat and there was an acidic tint about him that reminded him of Clint’s blood, still staining the couch in Steve’s house from where Bruce had worked to get the bullet out the night before.

Clint was fine. He would be fine. That’s what Bruce had said, hands covered in blood and a small lump of metal between his fingers. Tony had wanted to throw up then too but held back, Clint would be fine. They all would. As soon as they got Steve out of there.

The news was reporting the start of a turf war for Brooklyn, speculating the rise of The Captain’s enemies to fill his vacate seat. Steve couldn’t have predicted this, Tony knew, this random attack where Clint and Sam just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rumlow saw it as The Avengers declaring war, even without their Captain. He was coming for them all now.

They needed Steve.

He pushed open the door to Rhodey’s office with a shaky hand. He hadn’t slept all night, despite the fact Natasha had ushered him up to Steve’s room and told him to try. Tony couldn’t. The bed smelled like Steve and being there without him felt wrong.

Tony went down to the garage instead and got to work. He built the device to short-out the cameras in an hour with three cups of coffee. His memory always had been good, and it was better under pressure. That same device was currently like a hot rock in his pocket and Tony had to stop himself from checking it every few minutes.

Bucky had given him the schematics and plans for the cells in the early hours, barely saying a word to him as he dropped the plans at Tony’s feet along with another cup of coffee. Tony barely registered it until after Bucky had already gone. The steam rose from the cup invitingly and briefly Tony wondered if this was a peace offering. A thank you, maybe. He drained it in minutes and got back to work.

He finished the second device only a few hours ago, using rudimentary theory he’d learnt from watching Howard build explosives for years. He had to find a way to slip it to Steve. The device was a small black box, similar to a kitchen timer with a kill switch. Steve just needed to place it by the lock and stand back. It should be able to fry the electronic locking system without alerting anyone to the fact Steve’s cell was open but from there Steve would be on his own.

Rhodey looked up from his paperwork at Tony’s arrival, “Hey Tones, you can’t be here. It’s all systems go right now with the turf war.”

Tony nodded, shutting the door behind him, “Right, I heard about that. It’s sort of why I’m here.”

“What’s going on?” Rhodey asked, giving Tony his undivided attention.

Tony felt the awkwardness rolling off him in waves, “You trust me, right? We’ve been friends for so long now, you have my back?”

“Always.” Rhodey replied, “What’s happened?”

“I need to see him.”

Rhodey blinked twice, “Who?”

“The Captain. Steve Rogers.” Tony breathed out, “I know he’s been held here, and I need two minutes alone with him.”

Rhodey looked at him like he’d just thrown up on his shirt, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I need you to trust me.”

“I need you to do better.” Rhodey replied, “He’s a criminal, a gangster. He’s a killer, Tony. How do you even know him?”

Tony sighed, he knew this was coming, “Remember that guy I told you about, the one that didn’t work out?”

“Oh god no, Tony!” Rhodey threw his hands up, “Tell me you’re joking. Tell me you haven’t been fucking The Captain this whole damn time.”

“Not the whole time.” Tony whispered gently.

Rhodey was having none of it, “Don’t even try it. The Captain? Are you serious? You know what’s he’s done? He’s a cop killer, Tony.”

“No, he isn’t.” Tony replied, “That was Hydra, they were framing the Avengers. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time for. I need to see him.”

“You’re talking like you’re one of them.” Rhodey spat out, “Is that what you are now?”

“Maybe… yeah, I think so.” Tony replied and he could already see the hurt and disappointment on Rhodey’s face, “Hey, listen, I’m still me okay. I’m just trying to help here. This turf war, it’s going to get ugly fast and I need you to believe me when I say he’s the only one who can stop it now.”

Rhodey shook his head, taking a step back, “Out of all the stupid shit…”

“I know. It should have been anyone else. I should have stopped it before it became anything more. But it wasn’t and I didn’t.” Tony sighed, “And I can’t stand here and apologise because I’m not sorry. He’s not what you think, Rhodey. He’s… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

Tony saw Rhodey’s eyes soften for a moment, “You’re an idiot.”

Tony nodded, “I’ll take that. Please, help me. Two minutes with him, okay? Then I’m out of here and I promise I won’t come back. I just need to see him.”

“Why? He broke up with you, right? You’re done?” Rhodey asked with a frown.

“Right. This might be my last chance to get closure, Rhodey.” Tony sighed, “I think I need that. I need to look him in the eye and let him know I’m going to be okay.”

Rhodey sighed, “I could lose my job.”

“No one has to know.” Tony said, “In and out, I swear.”

“You really need this?” Rhodey asked gently, face softening into a look Tony knew as resignation.

He nodded eagerly, “I really do.”

“Okay, two minutes tops. You don’t get too close to him, alright? I need to bring him up to the interview room to get him to sign his paperwork anyway. He’s refusing to get a lawyer even though one’s been calling for him.” Rhodey sighed, rubbing his brow, “You can go in first but then you leave, and you stay out of this until this investigation is over, okay? He’ll be rotting behind bars before you know it.”

“Happy days.” Tony replied, feeling his heart race and a bead of sweat slide down his neck.

Now, he just had to face Steve.


	17. Chapter 17

Tony was nervous as he approached the interview room with Rhodey leading the way. Steve was only in the next room to him and he couldn’t help but wipe his palms on his jeans as he steeled himself to go in.

It was irrational, this fear at seeing Steve again after everything they said at the docks. Tony wanted to take it all back, that whole conversation, if it meant he got get rid of the knot in his stomach and the weight in his chest. That wasn’t what was important though, getting Steve out was. They could deal with the rest after.

“Okay Tones. He’s in there. Hands are cuffed so he won’t try anything,” Rhodey told him as they came to a stop outside the door, “Two minutes. You say what you need to say, and you get out. I’ll come get you if you don’t.” It was almost amusing that Rhodey thought Steve might try and hurt Tony, when in reality Tony knew he’d be completely safe. Steve wouldn’t ever attack him, it was a fact, just like he knew Steve drew when he couldn’t sleep, and he always dropped a kiss onto Tony’s skin somewhere after he came. Tony knew in his bones he’d be safe.

Tony nodded, taking a steadying breath, “Two minutes. Don’t worry. Thank you.”

He barely managed a smile in Rhodey’s direction before he was moving past him and pushing open the door. They didn’t have much time and Rhodey would count down those two minutes right outside the door if Tony knew him well enough. He needed to do this. The whole team was depending on him to get this right.

He walked into the interview room, closing the door behind him with his foot. Steve startled at the sound; those blue eyes shocked at seeing Tony rather than another police officer in the room.

Steve stood up with a frown, hands cuffed in front of him though Rhodey hadn’t ordered him to be cuffed to the table as well. Tony was thankful for that; he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Steve like that.

“Tony?” Steve said although it sounded more like a question. He looked tired, Tony could see the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his skin. It looked even more washed out next to all the orange he was wearing.

Tony could feel everything rushing up inside him, all the sadness and anger and betrayal like a lump in his throat as he looked at Steve so he did what he always did, he hid it under layers of sarcasm, “Orange really isn’t your colour, you know?” He greeted, taking small tentative steps towards Steve.

Steve for his part didn’t move, standing frozen as his eyes tracked Tony across the room and his muscles bulged underneath the starch material of his outfit, “What are you doing here? Did they arrest you? They don’t have anything on you…”

Tony shook his head, “Free man.” He waved his hands for emphasis, “We don’t have much time.”

Steve frowned, “What?”

Tony took the small device from his pocket, clicking the button to emit a short-range frequency. His eyes drifted up to the camera in the corner of the room, watching as the red light clicked off. He could hear noise and action from outside but ignored it. They didn’t have long, less than two minutes now.

“Okay, I knocked out the camera. We can talk properly now.” Tony told him, slipping the device back into his jacket pocket.

Steve was slower than usual, “Tony, what are you doing here? After everything…”

Tony cut him off, “You’ve been a complete idiot and the team needs you.”

“I heard about the shooting at the docks. Who?” Steve asked.

“Clint. He’s fine.” Tony reassured him, watching as Steve’s shoulders uncurled slightly at the news, “But it’s war now. Rumlow found Clint and Sam searching for the base of operations. He thinks the Avengers made a move to attack him.”

Steve understood perfectly, “He’s out for blood. All of it.” He gave a sigh and Tony had never seen him looking for worn, “It wasn’t meant to be like this. If they hadn’t been seen, then this would have worked.”

“Oh, this plan of yours to sacrifice your own freedom for the rest of us?” Tony sneered, “This plan where you destroyed your own family to save them?”

“They would have healed, Tony. They would have adjusted. They would have been free and safe.” Steve told him, “How could I not pick this plan?”

“And what about me?” Tony asked, “Was hurting me really worth all this?”

Steve softened, stepping closer to Tony. His cuffs rattled slightly as he moved. He dropped his head and Tony could see the shame wash over him, “You would have realised I wasn’t good enough for you. I’m not good enough for you.”

“Did you mean it? The things at the docks?” Tony asked because he had to, he needed to know.

“Tony…”

“Did you mean it? Yes or no.” He surprised himself with the volume of his own voice but held firm.

When Steve looked at him again his eyes were glassy, “No.”

Tony nodded and then he shoved him. He reached out both hands, pushing firmly on Steve’s chest until he felt him stumble back slightly with the force, “You’re a goddamn asshole.” Tony hissed out, stepping away from him.

“I know.” Steve replied, his voice soft but clear.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here to save your ass anyway.” Tony sniffed, “Because the team needs you. We can’t stop Hydra without you. Not now. We need to break you out.”

Steve shook his head, “No way, Tony. Too risky. Ross will arrest you the second he gets wind of it.”

“Okay, you’re handcuffed so I’m calling the shots right now.” Tony told him, stepping closer again, “We have a plan. You’re going to break yourself out, then you’re going to get clear and meet the team outside in the alley. They will have a car waiting.”

“How am I meant to break myself out of here?” Steve asked.

Tony dug through his pocket, holding out the black box he’d spent most of the night creating to show Steve, “It’s a prototype but it should work fine. You hold it up against the lock, press the switch on top to activate it and it will fry the locking system on your cell door. Then you’re on your own.”

Steve didn’t move to take it, instead his eyes met Tony’s, “This is too risky, you shouldn’t be involved in this. I’ll kill Nat the next time I see her.”

“There won’t be a next time if you don’t let me help you.” Tony argued.

“Tony, I’m sorry… I really am… what happened…”

Tony cut him off, “No, we’re not doing this here. I’m still mad at you. I don’t want to hear it. We have to move.”

“You know if you do this then you’re crossing a line. You’ll be a criminal. Ross will come after you too.” Steve told him, smartly letting the subject of them drop for now.

Tony sighed; how could this man be so infuriating?

He stepped closer to Steve again, “Would you stop thinking about me for five seconds and start thinking about yourself? Or at least think about how much of a chance your family stand against Rumlow without you there now.”

“I did this for you. To protect you.” Steve shot back.

“And I’m doing this for you to protect you!” Tony shouted in an explosion of emotion that seemed to come from nowhere, “Because I love you!”

The silence the followed was louder than their words before. Tony was just standing there, device still in his hands, not believing his own words. Steve looked equally as shocked, those blue eyes wide and searching.

“You…” Steve trailed off.

“I said what I said.” Tony replied, “You heard me. So, if you care about me at all, you’ll get out of this and help us get Rumlow off the streets before he hurts anyone else.”

Steve looked like he wanted to say something, but they were out of time. They both startled at the three timid knocks at the door. Their time was up.

“Tones, let’s go.” Rhodey called from behind the door after his knocks.

Tony panicked, looking down at the device in his hands then back to Steve’s face. He could hear the doorknob turning behind him.

He did the only thing he could think of. He threw himself at Steve as the door opened. Steve stumbled back in shock, cuffed hands gripping the front of Tony’s jacket to steady them both as Tony kissed him. Their lips fused together with a practiced ease and Steve felt so good under his mouth, so warm and soothing, Tony couldn’t help but deepen the kiss.

The door swung open behind them but neither paid any attention. Tony had the device in his hand, fingers pushing under Steve’s ugly orange t-shirt quickly.

“Jesus Tony!” Rhodey shouted behind him.

Tony ignored him, hands skimming the elastic waistband of Steve’s trousers as he quickly pulled them back from his stomach slightly to shove the small black box between the skin of Steve’s navel and the elastic. To Rhodey, it just looked like they were making out, his view blocked by Tony’s back.

Tony pulled away just as quickly as Steve opened his eyes. Tony took a few steps backwards as he watched the confusion on Steve’s face change to something more mischievous, no doubt realising what Tony’s plan had been all along with that kiss. The material of Steve’s t-shirt came down far enough that the little box wasn’t visible to anyone who didn’t know it was there.

“This isn’t closure.” Rhodey reminded him.

Tony shot Steve a smile, “Yes, it is.” He was standing at Rhodey’s side now, but his eyes were fixed on Steve, “Have a nice life, Captain.” He said in a purr. Tony stayed just long enough to watch Steve swallow thickly and then he was gone.

“Oh no, we need to have a little chat.” Rhodey called out and Tony wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or to Steve, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t stop smiling as he walked out of the police station.

Natasha and Bucky were waiting for him across the street in a beat-up old Volvo, not one of Steve’s clearly but it helped them blend in. The atmosphere between them seemed charged, they were sitting there in silence as they waited for Tony and briefly he wondered whether they’d had an argument whilst he was gone.

Tony slid into the backseat with the smile of someone who had done their job perfectly.

“Well, how did it go?” Natasha asked, turning in her seat to look at him.

Tony nodded, “I gave him the device and a pretty good incentive to get himself out of this mess. Now, you wait.”

“You mean we wait?” Natasha corrected.

“Actually no.” Tony paused, “You don’t need me to get Steve out. I’ve done my bit. I need to go see my father.”

Natasha frowned, “Howard? Why?”

“Because he’s on Hydra’s payroll and if we really are going to win this war, we need the leverage. He’d be a great credible witness against Hydra for the cops and Rumlow knows it. We can use him.” Tony replied.

“Would he help us?” Natasha asked.

Tony sighed softly, “I think I can persuade him. I seem to be doing a lot of that today.”

“I’ll go with him.” Bucky spoke up, causing both heads to look at him.

“You really don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” Tony replied, confusion clear on his face.

Bucky shook his head, “Steve wouldn’t want you going alone, so you’re not going alone. Nat, text Thor and Sam for backup here. We’ll see you back at the house with Steve.”

Natasha looked from Bucky to Tony and back again with a small shrug, “Just be careful.” She said softly although Tony got the impression she aimed the comment more at Bucky than at him.

Bucky nodded, “You too.”

/

Stark Industries was a skyscraper to the masses in the heart of New York, Howard Stark’s own personal throne and Tony knew that’s where his father would be. Bucky was a silent companion for the most part, sitting in the passenger seat of Tony’s car after they had gone to pick it up like a phantom that might disappear at any moment. The silence was stifling, and Tony couldn’t help but glance at Bucky every now and again to check he was still there.

In truth, Tony wasn’t sure he was ready for this. To confront Howard and waltz into Stark Industries as his son returning home for the first time in years. He needed to do it though, Howard was working with Hydra and if they had any chance of stopping Hydra and Rumlow then they needed to get Howard on side. Once again, his father held all the cards.

This time was different though, this time Tony wasn’t a scared kid trying to avoid his father’s temper. He knew he was stronger than that. Not to mention the glorified bodyguard in the front seat and the mob boss who would raise hell if Tony came back with some much as a bruise. He could do this. He had to do this.

He might not be in the best place with Steve right now, but he knew Steve wouldn’t want any harm to come to him. That was the whole reason he allowed himself to be arrested, to protect Tony and the family from harm. That was a whole mess they needed to talk about. His kiss with Steve still burned on his lips and as much as he did it for his plan and to slip Steve the device, Tony couldn’t help but think about it. He’d told Steve how he felt, he laid his feelings out there on the line whilst still being angry at him. Steve hadn’t even said the words back so maybe it changed nothing between them, maybe once they were done with Hydra they’d be done for good.

“Light’s green.” Bucky grunted in the passenger seat, pulling Tony out of his thought.

Tony startled; the light they had stopped for had changed back to green. He put the car into gear and headed off, “You didn’t have to come, you know?” He said softly to Bucky, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

Bucky shuffled in his seat, clearly awkward, “You needed back up.”

“You don’t even like me.” Tony reminded him, taking a left at the junction. Stark Industries loomed in the distance like a beacon for dread, calling Tony home.

“Your dad’s working with Hydra, right? If Steve knew I let you go alone then he’d put a bullet in me, family or not.” Bucky replied and when Tony glanced over he noticed Bucky’s attention was focused on the window and the blurring streets as Tony drove.

Tony hummed, “So, you’re here for Steve?”

“Same as you, right?”

Tony couldn’t argue with that and Bucky definitely didn’t want to be having this conversation. He let it drop, focusing on navigating the traffic to get to his father’s empire.

Bucky was silent for another few minutes, fingers tapping on the car door before he spoke again, “I don’t hate you.” He said so softly that Tony almost did a double take.

“It’s fine, I’m not here for your approval.” Tony told him and honestly, he wasn’t.

Bucky sighed, turning in his seat a little more so his knees were angled towards Tony, “I don’t. I just… I wasn’t sure you were right for Steve. I thought you were messing with his head; we didn’t know anything about you and suddenly Steve is seeing you regularly and staying over. He never does that you know; he doesn’t stay the night. Never goes to the same person twice. It’s too risky for him in this line of work.”

Tony cocked his head to one side, “Are you in love with him or something?”

“Fuck off.” Bucky narrowed his eyes, “He’s my responsibility, okay? Ever since we were kids and his mom died it’s been my job to look out for him. I was the only one who could. The streets, the army, the gang. Anything that’s a risk to him is a problem for me.”

“You think I’m a threat to him?” Tony asked.

Bucky sighed gently, “He doesn’t think about the job when he’s with you. He doesn’t think about anything but a fantasy with you. He doesn’t think about The Captain or his own survival. That’s dangerous for a man like Steve. As soon as someone like Rumlow finds that weakness they exploit it. I know how that story ends and I don’t want to bury my best friend in the ground because of some infatuation he can’t resist.”

“Infatuation?” Tony scoffed, “Nice.”

“You know what I mean.” Bucky replied, “This job, this life. It isn’t for everyone and you’re not like us, Tony. That’s a good thing. But it doesn’t make Steve any safer and I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces when you decide you can’t do this anymore. When being with a mob boss gets too much for you.”

Tony turned another corner, mulling over Bucky’s words. Rhodey would be the same over him, wouldn’t he? Hadn’t he been worried and concerned over Tony’s relationship with Steve much like Bucky was. Had all this hostility really come from an overprotectiveness Bucky had honed from a young age?

“I told him I loved him today.” Tony let out a little laugh, “In the police station. Even after he broke up with me, even after he hurt me. He didn’t say it back and there wasn’t enough time to talk about it, but I meant it. I’m here because I choose to be here, because he is what I want. I don’t know what to do with that but I’m not about to bail on him now.”

Bucky sighed, eyes drifting to Tony for the first time in their conversation, “I know. I saw it the moment you walked back into the house and started trying to help us get him out of that cell. That’s when I knew Natasha was right, I was wrong about you.”

Tony took that as a compliment, “Okay then, let’s go catch up with my dear old dad.”

“He loves you too, you know?” Bucky said softly, eyes drifting to the window again, “I don’t know if he realises it yet, but he does. I can tell.”

Tony didn’t reply, forcing himself to focus on the task ahead as he pulled into the Stark Industries underground garage with an ID code that he hadn’t used since he was seventeen and was surprised still worked. He knew that was going to be the easiest bit about today.

Howard’s office was on the top floor, the arrogance of a man thinking he was top of the world. Tony made his way up there, Bucky trailing behind. He’d gone silent again, hands in his pockets and while he wasn’t as big as Steve, he did cut an impressively imposing figure against all the suited Stark Industries workers as they passed. There were whispers as Tony led the way, many people couldn’t believe the son of Howard Stark was back. He looked taller and older and nothing like Howard in his ratty jeans and jacket. Tony was sure he even heard a camera go off as they headed up to Howard’s office, but he held his head high and his back ram-rod straight. Just like being seventeen again and being attacked by vultures.

Oh, how he hated this life.

His father’s assistant stopped them when they reached Howard’s office. She was a small woman, blonde and beautiful and Tony figured Howard had hired her for more than her filing skills.

“Sorry, sir.” She told Tony with a smile, “You don’t have an appointment.”

“I’m his son.” Tony replied with a scowl.

“Mr Stark doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.”

Tony sighed, “Okay, well you call him and tell him Tony is here to see him.”

As soon as the assistant was reaching for the phone Tony breezed past her, heading straight into Howard’s office without knocking, Bucky close on his heels.

Howard blanched at the intrusion, sitting behind his desk with a bottle of whisky open and papers in front of him. Tony glared as Bucky shut the door behind them. Howard was practically beaming.

“Tony, my boy!” He greeted, straightening up in his seat as Tony eyed the alcohol with a tight stomach, “We’re celebrating a new deal going through. Have a glass.”

“I’d rather not.” Tony sighed, stepping closer to Howard even though every instinct was telling him to run. Bucky moved with him, silent but never far away, “I’m here for business.”

Howard’s eyes popped, “Finally taking my offer of coming back to the company?”

Tony couldn’t handle this charade anymore, “Cut the shit. Let’s skip over the part where you play the doting father to the bit where you tell me why you’re working for Hydra and about how the fuck you sold your own son over to them for profit.”

His heart was racing, and he could sense Bucky’s anger to his left. For once, he was thankful to have him and not Steve in the room. Howard had the audacity to pour himself another glass as he spoke.

“They weren’t going to hurt you, Tony. Rumlow needed the Jericho and I did try asking nicely. I came to your apartment and you, quite literally, shut the door in my face.” Howard told him plainly.

Tony shook his head, “Rumlow’s going to hurt people. He’s going to sell those bombs to the highest bidder and people will die, Howard. That’s going to be on you, is that really what you want? Is that how much profit means to you?”

“It’s business.” Howard snapped, “We’re a weapons manufacturer. It goes with the territory. If it makes you feel uncomfortable then come back to the company, we’ll set up some charity events and make some donations. You need to think about the bigger picture, Tony. You can’t survive without money and this is how we make it.”

“This is how _you_ make it.” Tony spat, “And now, for once in your life, you’re going to do the right thing. You’re going to go to the police and tell them about the Jericho, about Rumlow’s plans, Hydra. Everything. You’re going to stand up as a witness against them and help get him off the streets because you owe me that, dad. That’s the least you owe me.”

Howard chuckled, “I owe you? I owe you nothing, you left. You walked out on this family and this legacy. Why the hell would I risk my business, and my life, to help you?”

Tony took a shaky breath, “Because if you don’t then I’ll destroy your legacy myself. I’ll go to the press and tell them why I left home. I’ll tell them about the drinking and the abuse. I’ll show them the scars and explain how I designed more than half the products you made. Who’ll want to buy from you then, Howard? Who would want to trust a liar and a washed-up inventor who might have been brilliant once but has been living off his son’s brilliance for longer than that? A man who beats his own kid because he can’t deal with the fact he has been surpassed?”

Howard slammed both hands on the table in anger and Bucky was quick like a shot, pulling a gun from inside his jacket and cocking it level at Howard with a blank face. Tony was panting, heart hammering like a hummingbird in his chest as Howard seethed.

“You wouldn’t go to the press.” Howard mused, “You’re too proud, Tony. You get that from me, you know? You don’t want anyone to see you as the victim, it’s why you haven’t told them yet.”

Tony nodded, “That was true once but honestly, I’d rather take the heat then watch this company’s body count rise.”

Bucky still had his gun trained on Howard and Tony watched his father’s eyes flick over to him every few seconds. It was a rare thing to see Howard Stark show fear.

“So, you’re one of them now?” Howard asked, cocked his head in Bucky’s direction.

Tony glanced that way as well; Bucky was as firm as ever. “He is.” Bucky replied and Tony couldn’t help but feel shocked at those words leaving Bucky’s mouth.

“Is he fucking you?” Howard asked next, the words bitter in his mouth.

Tony shook his head, “No. Your move, Dad. You do the right thing, or I’ll go to the press and tell them everything.”

Howard smiled, “Tony, do you really think you can blackmail me?”

“Do you really think you can risk it?”

There was a stalemate between them, locked in this silent battle of wills as Bucky watched from the sidelines. A moment passed, and then another, and another. Tony was starting to wonder whether Howard had even heard him.

Then his father sighed, relaxing back into his chair, “Fine. You win, I’ll come forward as a witness but you need to back me up and tell them I knew nothing about what Rumlow was planning to do with the weapons and as soon as I found out I did the right thing by coming forward.”

Tony laughed, “Self-preservation always wins out.”

“And you come back as a consultant for the company.”

“No.”

Howard sighed, “That’s the deal I’m afraid. I want new designs from you. One every month so I can win the support of the shareholders back and you get your way to bring down Rumlow. You’re losing me money, Tony. You need to replace it somehow.”

Tony shook his head. No way, he was out. He was done. He was free of Howard and he promised himself he wasn’t going back. But then he thought about those bombs in Rumlow’s hands. He thought about Steve willing to rot in a cell to do the right thing and Peter, so young and innocent, he shouldn’t have to live in fear of a man like Rumlow because Tony was too much of a coward to make this deal.

“A new design every three months.” Tony countered, “I have my own job to do as well.”

Howard rubbed his chin, “Every three months and a public dinner one a month. The press needs to see us building bridges. It will be good for the SI image.”

Typical Howard, ask for an inch and take a mile. Tony’s stomach churned at the idea of sitting around a table with this man, “One night. One course meal. No extras.”

“Deal.” Howard smiled blissful, “Welcome home, son.”

Tony wanted to heave.

/

Steve was back in his cell after his meeting with Tony and the cop, Rhodes, looked like he wanted to punch him every time Steve caught his eye. He understood perfectly, Tony hadn’t left much to the imagination with that kiss that Rhodes had walked in on.

It was smart, slipping Steve the device so no one would notice it. It also left Steve slightly aroused and more than a little confused. Tony had said he loved him, but Steve knew he had hurt him and that alone had probably ruined anything they might have had together even if he did manage to get out of there. He’d retrieved the device from the waistband of his pants, turning the little box over in his hands. It would be easy to break the lock, he trusted Tony’s design, but then he’d have to dodge being caught by police and navigate his way through the station before he was free. The morgue would be the best option, he knew the layout from when he went to visit Fury and see Coulson’s body. There was a service exit he’d used. It would probably be unmanned.

And then what? Go after Rumlow, stop him. He’d be a wanted man, a fugitive. He’d have to leave Brooklyn and his family and Tony anyway because there was no way Ross would just let him go. But he’d be free, they could all start over. Maybe they could join him in a new city when the dust settled or maybe they could all part ways here. Bucky and Natasha could retire, they could mend their relationship and have a shot at a family. Bruce could go back to being an actual doctor and Sam could focus on the bar. He wanted to franchise once, maybe without the gang he could.

First, Steve had to get out of there. Then, Tony. They needed to talk, whatever happened or didn’t happen next between them. Steve needed to apologise, he needed to explain. He needed to tell Tony that even though it scared the shit out of him he felt the same way.

Steve waited for the working shift to end before he put Tony’s plan into action. There would be less cops around after six, working a skeleton shift never afforded as many people and he would be Steve’s best chance at getting out without anyone seeing him. He couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t start killing cops for his own freedom. It wasn’t what he did, that was Rumlow’s style.

He fixed the little device to the lock on his cell, hit the switch and stood back a few feet. He waited with held breath, wondering if Tony had got his instructions right or Steve had misheard him, then the device started smoking a little, there was a creak of metal and the door opened a little. Steve peered round but no one was down in the cells with him, they didn’t dare put anyone with The Captain.

He pushed the cell door open a little more, delighted to be stepping closer to his freedom. His hands were still cuffed so he’d need to do something about that but first he needed to ditch his clothes. The bright orange would give him away instantly and if Steve was going to do this he needed to blend in.

He made his way up the stairs quickly, spotting a sign towards the locker room. He ducked in that door, peering around the corner to make sure it was empty. It was, much to Steve’s relief, and he slipped inside allowing himself a moment to breathe.

The locker room wasn’t anything fancy, grey lockers with names lined up against the wall with a bench in the middle for changing. There were no cameras in here at least so Steve had a little time. He noticed one locker in the corner, a dent in the metal of the door and the word ‘Fury’ scribbled on the name tag. Steve smiled to himself as he made his way over to the locker. Well, he did need clothes and Fury was probably as close in size to him as he was going to get.

Steve kicked the locker with his foot, testing the metal as it shook with the force. Flimsy enough for Steve to get into at least. He rattled the locker a bit more, mindful of the noise he was making and give it a sharp bang on the side with his fist. The door popped open enough for Steve to wedge his fingers in and pry it the rest of the way.

Fury’s locker was a mess, empty spray cans and dirty laundry shoved in the bottom along with his gym bag and some files that hadn’t been looked after at all. Steve wanted to crinkle his nose at the smell but held back. He found a NYPD waterproof rain jacket on the shelf, clumsily folded up and Steve shook it out. It would be a little small, but it would have to do. He found a baseball cap underneath the gym bag and placed that into his pile as well. There were no trousers and Steve wasn’t sure he’d fit in them even if he found any so he’d have to make the orange ones work. This should be enough to get him out the door.

He couldn’t change into them until he got the cuffs off though and that was his next problem. He was debating breaking his own thumb just to slip a hand out when the door opened, and Rhodes strode into the locker room. He was shrugging off a suit jacket and frozen when he saw Steve, blinking like he didn’t believe the image in front of him.

Steve sighed, “Fancy meeting you here.” He tried although lacking his normal charm.

Rhodey was reaching for the gun on his hip. Steve moved fast, he slammed Rhodes back against the lockers behind him and they shook under his weight, but it was enough to daze the cop in his grasp who was trying to get a hand on Steve’s throat.

“You kill me and Tony will never forgive you.” Rhodes hissed out.

Steve blanched at the idea, stepping back to allow Rhodes to catch his breath, “I’d never do anything to hurt Tony. Or you.”

“Yeah, right.” Rhodey sneered.

“He’s safe with me, I promise.”

“We’re not doing this.” Rhodes replied, “We aren’t talking about Tony right now. Get on your knees, I’m taking you back to your cell.”

Steve shook his head, “That’s not really my style.” He replied, “I am sorry about this though.”

“About what?”

Steve punched him and Rhodes hit the deck, out cold. Steve sighed, moving him into a more comfortable position against the lockers. Rhodes would have a hell of a headache and a bruise, but he’d be fine, and he wouldn’t be able to sound the alarm as Steve tried to make his escape. Tony would be pissed though.

He sighed again, hands delving into Rhodes’ suit pockets, “I am sorry.” Steve muttered as his fingers pulled out a keyring of keys. Steve found the one he was looking for easily, it was the smallest of the bunch and managed to unlock his cuffs. His wrists were sore as he rubbed them, letting the keys and cuffs fall at Rhodes’ feet as Steve got back up again.

He had to move, Rhodes could wake up or someone else could walk in and Steve couldn’t knock out every cop in the station. He shrugged on Fury’s jacket and slipped the baseball cap low on his head to hide his face. It wasn’t a brilliant disguise, but it would have to do.

Then he headed down. The morgue was in the basement and that was the way to his freedom.

There were barely any signs of life down here at all, it was cold and silent, but Steve didn’t stop to think about it, he was almost home.

Then the alarm sounded.

It was blaring down in the lower level so it must have been deafening in the upper ones. The message was clear. A criminal had escaped and was on the loose, all units to engage. Steve didn’t have a good feeling about this.

He was so close, he started jogging, taking another corner and another. He could see the sign for an exit up ahead. He started running now, just a little more.

He rounded the last corner and stopped dead in his tracks. The exit was in sight, but Fury stood in front of it, hands crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

Steve slowed back to a walk but kept closing the distance between them, “This? This was your great big plan?” Fury asked with disbelief.

Steve shrugged, “No, I wasn’t planning on leaving but things change. Rumlow went after my family.”

“Is that my jacket?” Fury asked with a raised eyebrow. Steve followed his line of vision to the word ‘Fury’ stitched into the right upper breast pocket.

“I’ll wash it.” Steve promised, “Also I left Rhodes in the locker room. He’ll have a headache when he comes around.”

“Christ, Rogers.” Fury sighed, “I should arrest you for that alone.”

Steve nodded, “But you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” Fury agreed, “Ross is blinded on this one. But we can’t leave Rumlow out there to push bombs. Can you stop him?”

“I hope so.” Steve sighed, “If I don’t, Ross won’t have to worry about me because I’ll be dead.”

Fury nodded, “It was smart coming down here. I figured you would.”

“Well, you practically gave me the tour once.” Steve replied.

“Keep to the side streets. Avoid the highway at all costs.” Fury told him, stepping to one side to clear his path, “When all this is over, if you’re still alive, I might even thank you.”

Steve pushed past him, “When all this is over I might even pretend to be grateful.”

“Steve…” Fury paused for a moment before continuing, “You’ve got 48 hours maximum. Then Ross will issue kill orders. Anyone still around by then will be shot on sight. Special branch wants this one done.”

“48 hours. Got it.” Steve nodded.

Then he was gone, not even sparing Fury a glance behind him. He could have shot him in the back while Steve was leaving if he really wanted to, but Steve knew that wasn’t the play he was making. He needed Steve to get Rumlow off the streets and to the police. He couldn’t act against Ross’ orders, but Steve could. It seemed, for now at least, Steve and Fury were tied together in seeing this thing through to the end.

Whatever outcome that might be.

Steve did as Fury suggested, keeping to the side streets and alleyways, looping back around the building to find Natasha’s getaway car waiting for him. Steve could see her smiling at him in the rear-view mirror, wide and joyful at seeing him. He couldn’t help but return it as he slipped into the passenger seat of the beat-up Volvo she’d chosen to use as their vehicle. Sam and Thor were in the back seat with equal grins.

He had barely sat down when Natasha launched at him, arms hugging him tightly as he breathed in a mouthful of her hair, “You know, anyone would think you missed me.” He teased, giving her a squeeze in return.

Natasha pulled back, punched him hard in the arm and smiled wide again, “Anyone would think you like being a self-sacrificing idiot.”

“It was a good plan before Rumlow went off script.” Steve sighed, “Clint?”

“He’s fine. Well, he’s whining a lot but we take that to mean he’s fine.” Sam replied, “Bruce said he’ll make a full recovery.”

Steve nodded before a frown came to his face, “Where’s Tony?” He thought Tony would be here, waiting for him although perhaps that was a naïve fantasy. They weren’t exactly together right now despite what Tony had said to him.

“He said he needed to go see Howard.” Natasha said, “Get him on side to use against Hydra.”

Steve bristled, “You let him go?!”

“Bucky is watching his back.” Natasha replied, “They’ll meet us at the house.”

“Bucky is watching his back?” Steve repeated, not quite believing the words. How long had he been in that cell for?

“It was his idea.” Natasha insisted, “We need to go.”

Steve nodded, “Okay, stay off the highways though. Back streets only. Ross will be looking for me.”

As Natasha drove off and Steve buckled his seatbelt, he couldn’t help but worry for Tony, facing his father after everything Steve knew he had been through at his hands. He shouldn’t have done it; he shouldn’t have needed to.

“What’s the plan now, Cap?” Sam asked from behind him.

Steve kept his view straight ahead, “We stop Rumlow. Whatever it takes.”

Firstly though, he needed to talk to Tony, properly talk to him for more than the two minutes they managed to steal in that room today. If this really was the end of everything they had all worked for then Steve wanted to put a few things right and he needed Tony to hear him, even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Whatever it takes.” Natasha agreed from her place in the driver’s seat.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains smut and gore!

Tony was picking at his nails nervously by the time Bucky had driven them back to Steve’s place. He had offered to take the drive back as soon as they left Howard’s office and the thought of facing Steve again was at the forefront of Tony’s mind. Now he was back facing this house again he was glad Bucky was in the driving seat.

There was no doubt Steve was home, Natasha’s car stood in the driveway like a bright neon sign. Steve was inside. Was he waiting for Tony? He was hoping Tony wouldn’t come back?

They had kissed at the station but that had been a ploy on Tony’s part to give him the device, he had pushed pass all those feelings of hurt and insecurity to get the job done. Steve would have done the same. But Steve had kissed him back, eager and joyful. Just like he always kissed Tony, with the fine line between sweet and sinful.

He wanted to retreat back to the garage in hopes of avoiding this reunion a little while longer. Tony wasn’t sure he could do it. Go inside and prepare for a fight, with Steve’s family, with Steve, after everything that had happened between them. Would Steve want to talk about it? Would he even want to see Tony now the threat of jail time was over for the moment and the focus had shifted to Hydra?

“You staring at it intensely isn’t going to make it catch fire.” Bucky jested from the seat next to him, hands resting on the wheel.

Tony looked almost sheepish, “I’m not sure about this.”

“He needs you.” It was still weird to hear omissions like that from Bucky’s mouth after all this time.

“Apparently not.” Tony shot back, feeling his skin prickle.

Bucky sighed, turning in his seat slightly to get Tony’s attention, “You love him, right? Well, this is what you’re signing up for. He’s stubborn and overprotective and a pain in the ass but he’s also loyal and loving and supportive. He’ll go to war for you if you ask him.”

“It doesn’t mean he returns those feelings.”

“And here Steve told me you were a genius.” Bucky sighed, “You’re kind of dumb for a genius, you know?”

Tony scoffed, “Fuck you.” His eyes drifted to the house again.

“Just go in, okay? Sitting out here worrying about it isn’t going to make it any easier.”

Tony nodded. Bucky was right, of course he was. “Let’s do this.”

Bucky stalled for a moment, “Actually I’m going to the shipping yard. I know Steve, he’ll need eyes on Rumlow before he makes his move. He needs to know what he’s walking into.”

“Without back-up?”

“Do I look like the kind of guy that needs back-up?”

Tony paused for a moment, “Just don’t get too close, okay?”

Bucky chuckled, “Is that an order? Are you giving me orders now?” He shook his head with a smile, “Damn, Steve. I almost feel sorry for you. You’ve got a spitfire here.”

“Spitfire?” Tony repeated, “Are you comparing me to a plane?”

“A fighter jet.” Bucky corrected, “And it’s a compliment.”

Tony narrowed his eyes and moved to open the car door, “You’re taking my car I suppose?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not a scratch, okay? I built this thing single-handedly.” Tony told him as he stepped out onto the street.

Bucky gave him a fake salute as he started the engine, “Just talk to him. Listen. Then make your decision, whatever that is.”

Tony didn’t respond with an answer, his stomach was a ball of nerves as he crossed the street and make his way up the steps to Steve’s front door. He steeled himself before opening it, knowing they would have left it unlocked for his and Bucky’s arrival.

Everyone was gathered in the living room, a hub of nervous energy and chatter. Steve stood in the centre of it all, tall and tired and resolute. Tony felt his heart give a jump at the sight of him. He’d changed out of the orange garb, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looking a lot more like his Steve than when Tony had last seen him.

All eyes turned to Tony as he made his entrance, “Hi.” He said shyly, eyes only for Steve in that moment.

There was an invisible wall between them. A flood of everything thing left unsaid and that hung unspoken like an open wound between them. There was hurt and anger and confusion but there was something softer underneath as well. Tony swallowed thickly.

“Hi.” Steve replied, voice equally low and unsure.

“Where’s Bucky?” It was Natasha that cut through there stalemate and Tony was thankful to be able to take his eyes away from Steve.

“He went to the docks, down to Rumlow’s base at the shipment yard. He said you’d need details of the operation before you guys made a move.” Tony explained.

Steve nodded, “He always was two steps ahead on strategy.”

“That’s because he’s got a head built for the fight.” Sam commented, “In the army Bucky was the top of the top.”

Tony felt awkward standing there, hands in his pockets, “I should get going. Tell Bucky to text me when he’s back with my car and I’ll come pick it up.”

Natasha frowned, “You’re leaving?”

Tony was acutely aware of Steve’s eyes on him, “Yeah, I got work to do. Peter’s probably managed to electrocute himself by now or he’s accidently invented time travel or something. You never know with that kid.”

“You can’t leave, man.” Sam replied, “The only reason we’d made it through all of this is with your help. You’re part of the family, right Cap?”

Steve stalled, blue eyes torn and searching for the right thing to say, “If you want to be.” He said, words for Tony. The double meaning was clear.

Tony took a small step back, “I need to…” He turned on his heel, more overwhelmed than anything. He needed space and air and he needed to not see Steve’s lost puppy face.

“Tony,” Steve breathed out in a pained whisper whilst everyone else became distracted in their conversations. He has closed the distance between them now, catching Tony before he left the room completely. He caught Tony’s fingers in his palm, warm and callous, “Can we talk? Please?”

Tony pulled his hand away, barely meeting Steve’s gaze, but he nodded stiffly and headed upstairs. Steve followed him, heart hammering in his chest. He felt sick at the cold difference Tony was showing him and he knew he deserved it.

They ended up on his floor, in his office and Steve wondered whether Tony choose that room rather than the bedroom because it was less intimate. Steve followed him in there regardless, pushing the door closed behind him as he watched Tony walk over to the desk, stopping short of it with his arms folded over his chest.

“You wanted to talk.” Tony said, shoulders too stiff, “So talk.”

Steve deserved that. A million words bubbling in his throat. He was sure he could use them all and still it wouldn’t be enough to tell Tony how sorry he was. Still, if Tony hated him now then he deserved that too and if this was the last conversation Tony allowed him to have then he would fill it with all the words burning inside of him.

“I’m an asshole.” Steve blurted out, “And an idiot.”

Tony nodded, “I could have told you that. In fact, I think I did.”

“I wanted to protect you. I needed to protect you. But I shouldn’t have done it like this. I took that choice away from you. I should never have decided that for you, Tony. I’m sorry.” Steve told him, eyes pleading and throat thick.

Tony dropped his arms to his sides with a sigh, “You hurt me. You made me feel like shit, Steve. I thought it meant nothing to you. That I meant nothing to you.”

Steve closed his eyes at the pain in Tony’s voice, “Tony, no. It killed me, standing on the dock and saying that to you. Telling you I didn’t want this. It killed me. The way you looked at me, I never want to see you look like that again. Especially not because of me.”

“You should have told me.” Tony replied, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead, “We could have come up with something else. Or I could have played along.”

“I didn’t tell you because you wouldn’t have let me go.” Steve smiled softly, “You would have fought me tooth and nail.”

Tony scoffed, “Because that’s what you do in a relationship.”

“I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that this was anything other than that. A relationship. A partnership. That’s all I wanted, and I was a coward who didn’t want you to get dragged into my crap but I know I should have let you make that decision for yourself. I was scared you’d leave if I did.”

“So, you pushed me out the door first?”

Steve could feel tears burning behind his eyes and he took a small step closer to Tony. Tony took one back. Steve froze in his tracks, “I’m not sure I believe in God, my mom did. God, sins, penance. The whole deal. But if I’m ever stood in front of him, a list of my sins before me, this is the one I’ll seek forgiveness for. Not the people I’ve killed or the things I’ve done. This one, right here. You. Hurting you, that’s the sin I’d want to do penance for. For ever making you feel like you were anything less than what you are.”

Tony sniffed quietly, “What am I?”

“You’re, God Tony, you’re everything.” Steve smiled, feeling a tear in the corner of his eye, “You’re the smartest man in the room always, you’re funny and kind and caring. You’re the only person who could match me on my best day. You’re the person I want to wake up to every morning and go to bed with every night. You’re the man I want to be better for. The man I want to cherish and protect and be claimed by.”

“Steve…”

Steve wasn’t finished, “You doubt that? You really don’t see yourself the way I do.”

He walked forward slowly, giving Tony a chance to back away if he wanted to. He stayed put and Steve took that as a sign that he was listening at least.

“You can’t go around making decisions for me.” Tony told him, “If you really think I’m as smart and as capable as you say then you have to let me be that. Let me prove it.”

Steve shook his head, “You have nothing to prove to me. I have everything to prove to you.”

Tony took a shuddering breath and Steve could see his shoulders uncoil, “I don’t want you to prove anything to me. I just want us to get through this. Together.”

Steve could feel his heart in his ribcage, could see the tears in Tony’s eyes and knew he saw ones in his own. Steve swallowed thickly, before he dropped to his knees in front of Tony, letting a tear slip down his cheek. Tony look startled and surprised by the move, looking down as Steve knelt before him almost in a bow.

“What are you…?”

“They call me the King of Brooklyn because they say I don’t bow to anyone.” Steve told him, “But I bow to you. I kneel to you. I’ll get on my knees and I’ll stay there if you want me to because I don’t want it without you. My titles, the gang, my freedom. Tony, I just want you. You’re the only thing that can bring me to my knees and I don’t care about anything else but you.”

“Steve, come on, get up.” Tony insisted.

Steve stayed where he was, “I love you, Tony Stark.” He told him, blue eyes shining, “Impossibly. Recklessly. Foolishly. Blissfully. I love you.”

“I know I said it in the cell but…”

“I mean it. I’ve loved you since the first time we slept together and I stayed, and I woke up the next morning thinking I could get used to this. I’ve loved you and worshipped you and adored you. And even if you walk out that door now, I’ll love you still.” Steve told him, “But it’s your choice. It has to be your choice. It always should have been.”

Tony stared at him for the longest time, brown eyes shining, “Please stand up, I need to see you.”

Tony offered Steve his hand and Steve took it gently, savouring the warmth of their fingers together as he got to his feet, “I do love you. I tried not to. I didn’t want to. I know you didn’t do this to hurt me, that you wanted to protect me because that’s what you do. Steve Rogers, you haven’t met a thing you can’t protect by self-sacrifice. But you can’t pull that shit with me again, okay? I want to do this, but I want to be all in. I am all in, your family practically adopted me.”

Steve gave him a watery smile, “They’re smarter than I am.”

“Promise me. Whatever happens next, we do it together.” Tony replied taking Steve’s hands in his own.

“I promise you. Together, win or lose. Every decision we make from now on.”

Tony nodded, “Is there anything else I should know before we kiss and make up?”

Steve bit his lip, “I knocked Rhodey out back at the station. He’s fine, slight headache. He caught me trying to escape. I tried talking to him.”

“You punched my best friend?”

“You told me I was on my own,” Steve replied, “I couldn’t risk him sounding the alarm before I got out of there.”

Tony sighed, “Well that’s going to make Christmas awkward. You might have to let him get in a free shot to make him feel better.”

“Tony…”

“Okay, you’re going to have to apologise though.” He replied, “But so will I. I lied to him about seeing you and to get into the police station to slip you that device.”

Steve nodded, “That kiss was smart. I wouldn’t have thought of it.”

“See, you need me.”

“I do.”

Tony leaned in closer to him, closing the distance between them until they were sharing the same air, “I would have almost been turned on it if wasn’t for the fact that orange get up did nothing for your ass.”

Steve wanted to laugh, a smile gracing his lips as Tony’s fingers wiped away the stray tear on his cheek, “Tony, I… can I kiss you?”

Tony laughed, hands smoothing over Steve’s shoulders, “You’re asking permission now?”

“It’s your show, remember?” Steve smiled at him.

Tony nodded, fingers tangling into Steve’s hair, “So kiss me, soldier.”

Steve wasted no time in sealing his lips over Tony’s. The kiss was soft and slow and sweet. Steve placed a hand on Tony’s cheek, feeling him lean into his palm. They were going to be okay. Whatever Rumlow and Ross threw at them, they’d fight it together.

“It isn’t going to be like before, you know?” Tony said gently when they broke apart, “It isn’t going to be whatever you say goes.”

Steve smiled wide, “How’s it going to be?”

Tony stepped closer to him again, “Equals. Partners.”

That sounded like heaven from Tony’s lips and Steve could feel his stomach tighten at the sultry look in Tony’s eyes, “Tony, you don’t need…”

“I went to my father and made a deal for you. I helped break you out of jail. Because I love you, Steve. Whether it’s the smart decision or not is irrelevant now. I’m too far into this with you.” Tony replied, closing the gap between them until his hands were stroking down Steve’s shoulders and Tony was standing between his legs.

“You shouldn’t have had too.” Steve sighed, “Tony, if he touched you I’ll kill him…”

Tony shook his head, “He didn’t. I might need you to do some scary boyfriend visits to get me out of a few forced dinners though.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, pulling him all the way in until their foreheads were pressed together, “Consider it done. I love you. I do. But is this really want you want? This life?”

“I want you. I want whatever future that means we’re together.” Tony whispered between them, pulling back only slightly so Steve could feel his heat, “And right now, I want you to fuck me over your desk.”

Steve’s blood left his brain, travelling south at the words Tony had spoken. A smirk curved onto his face and he couldn’t resist pulling Tony back in so he could feel the excitement Steve was getting at his words, “I should have known you’d be the boss type.”

Tony smiled, “That’s why you love me. I challenge you.”

“I do love you.”

“Show me.”

Steve was more than willing to do just that, having Tony here and in his arms again after everything was enough for him to savour this moment. This chance for them to be together. There was still Rumlow and Ross and Hydra at their backs but right here, in his office with the door closed, there was something else as well. Something chemical and instinctive and addictive and as far as Steve was concerned it was radiating off Tony like the sun.

He kissed him softly, tongue running along the seam of Tony’s lower lip to tease him. Tony, ever the impatient one, tried to deep the kiss. Steve resisted that temptation though. He wanted to commit every second to detail. His mouth mapped over Tony’s, tilting his head to deepen their kiss until Tony let out a small growl of frustration, pushing his own erection into Steve to make his point.

Steve broke their kiss with a smile. Tony Stark might just be the death of him after all, and what a way to go. His lips travelled down to Tony’s neck; hands secure on Tony’s back to hold him steady as Steve explored the sensitive skin under his jawbone. Tony shuddered in his arms at the feeling of Steve’s beard brushing against his skin, throwing his head back to give Steve better access. Steve welcomed it, trailing his mouth up to Tony’s ear. He flicked his tongue out against it, teeth grazing the lobe until Tony moaned and pressed harder against Steve.

“Undress me.” Tony breathed in the space between them and Steve could see the appeal of losing their clothes under these circumstances.

Steve nodded, tearing his lips away from Tony’s skin so he could look him in the eye as his hands worked their way down to the hem of his t-shirt.

Tony was unable to look away, his whisky brown eyes on fire with lust and Steve felt his cock twitch in his jeans at the sight of Tony biting his bottom lip as Steve’s hands pushed his t-shirt up slowly, fingers grazing warm skin.

“You can go faster.” Tony told him.

Steve hummed, pushing the shirt up to his ribcage, “I could.” He agreed, dipping his head down to kiss the muscles of Tony’s stomach, “But I’m rather enjoying watching you squirm.”

Tony jumped under his touch as Steve moved the shirt up higher, his mouth following eagerly tasting Tony’s skin until the fabric was bunched under his arms. Tony lifted them up to help Steve as he smoothly glided the material over warm skin and Tony’s head until he was free of it.

Steve threw it to the side, hands immediately back on Tony’s skin. His fingers glided down his chest, defined and lithe but packed with muscle. Goose bumps erupted on Tony’s skin as his hands worked on the buttons of Steve’s shirt. He was faster than Steve had been, eager to get rid of the material as if it offended him. Steve found he didn’t mind one bit as Tony pushed him backwards until he hit the edge of the desk and shoved the material off his shoulders to get Steve free.

As soon as his arms were free, Steve moved his attention to Tony’s jeans, fingers deftly hooking around his belt loops to pull him in so Tony staggered into him as Steve worked the button open and fly down. Tony was rock hard under his touch and Steve couldn’t resist sliding his hand into the jeans to cup him through the material of his boxers.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” Steve asked him roughly, the heel of his hand pressing against his cock.

Tony moaned, grinding his erection against Steve’s palm as his fingers burrowed into the hair at the nape of his neck, “I want you inside me.”

Steve felt his own cock ache at the thought, “Jesus Tony.” He sighed, giving his cock a squeeze before withdrawing his hand.

Then his fingers were pushing down both jeans and boxers until Tony had no choice but to step out of them before he ended up tripping over. He did eagerly, kicking them out the way so he stood in front of Steve naked, erect and beautiful.

Steve took a moment to drink him in, admiring the tan skin and the length of his cock, proud against his stomach and already leaking. The head was shiny with precome and Steve wanted nothing more than to devour him.

Tony wasn’t about to draw this out though and his hands were yanking at Steve’s jeans and belt with a fierceness that had Steve standing up and trying to help him before he ripped something. Tony shoved Steve’s jeans down his legs, not bothering to get rid of the belt in his haste and then he was pushing Steve back against the desk, dropping to his knees right there in front of him so he could get his mouth on Steve’s cock.

Steve gasped as Tony mouthed him through the material of his boxers, tongue tracing the line of his cock and making his boxers wetter by the minute. He could feel the coil in his stomach, his hips gave a little thrust as Tony sucked against him and his breath hitched.

“Tony, fuck.” Steve breathed out, “I need to be inside you.”

Tony seemed to realise he wanted that as well and grabbed Steve’s hand to let him haul him back to his feet. Steve saw Tony look down at the mess of his boxers and smirk up at him. It was such a dirty look that heat pooled into Steve’s gut and he couldn’t resist drawing Tony back to him for a kiss that was sloppy and sinful. Tongues teased each other in Tony’s mouth and Steve felt him bite at his lower lip, dragging it with him when Steve tried to break the kiss before letting it go. Steve was sure his lip would look redder and plumper than usual tomorrow, but he didn’t care.

He spun them around, pinning Tony against the edge of the desk with his hands on either side of him to trap him in. Tony looked gleeful, rewarding him with another kiss as his hands ran down Steve’s chest until his fingers delved into his boxers to push them down as well. Steve stepped out of them as Tony’s hand landed on his cock, stroking him once, twice and a third time until Steve was letting out a groan of his own.

Tony smiled devilishly, “Come on Captain,” Tony dared him, “Let me feel you.”

Steve groaned again, crowding Tony in so his hands were firmly on Tony’s hips. Tony surprised him by spinning in the circle of Steve’s arms until his back was flush against Steve’s chest, Steve’s erection prodding him in the curve of his ass.

“Like this?” Steve breathed into his ear, “You want me to take you like this, so hard this desk is going to give you bruises and I wouldn’t be able to work at it without thinking about the way you sound when you cum?”

Tony shivered against him, “Yes.”

Steve placed a kiss on his shoulder blade, nose brushing against Tony’s skin, “You want to feel me pressing against you as I drive into you? You want me to fuck you like this knowing no one else will make you feel this way?”

“Yes, fuck, Steve, yes.” Tony growled out, shoving his ass back against Steve’s crotch.

Steve felt himself shuddering at the desperation in Tony’s voice. He moved his arm out towards his desk, shoving everything to the floor in one loud sweep so he could bend Tony over it, his ass perfectly curved and on display for him.

Tony went willingly, pressing his palms against the wood of Steve’s desk until his stomach was pressing against the edge and he was wiggling his ass impatiently. Steve smiled at the sight, running his fingers down from the top of Tony’s spine all the way to the curve of his ass. Tony twitched in eagerness as Steve slipped a finger between Tony’s ass cheeks before pulling away.

“Steve.” Tony whined.

Steve brought his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue over them to make sure they were slick enough for Tony. He didn’t keep lube in his office, and he wasn’t prepared to stop their administrations to hunt some down. As soon as Steve was satisfied, his fingers were back, circling the skin of Tony’s entrance before he pushed one inside.

Tony mewled at the feeling, muscles contracting and relaxing around Steve’s finger as Tony pushed back into him. Steve started to work his finger in and out of Tony’s hole, pushing a little further each time at a slow and steady pace that had Tony writhing against his hand. Steve slipped in a second finger, breathing heavily at the feeling of Tony gripping him tightly. Steve pushed his fingers in deeper, listening to the sounds he wrung out of Tony and watching the way he shivered against him, his breath fogging up the polished wood of Steve’s desk.

“Faster.” Tony panted, “Fuck, please.”

Steve slipped another finger inside but kept the same pace. Tony moaned, pushing himself lower to the table so Steve could stretch him open wider.

“God, sweetheart, you’re so gorgeous like this.” Steve told him, leaning down to kiss along his spine.

Tony bucked his hips against Steve’s hand and Steve curled his fingers inside of him in return. Tony practically jumped in his arms, shoving himself down and back onto Steve’s fingers with reckless abandonment.

“Steve.” Tony got out, panting his name as he thrust his hips against the edge of the desk, “I’m ready.”

“I don’t have a condom, shit.” Steve replied, cursing himself for not thinking of it beforehand.

“I don’t want to use one.” Tony said, thrusting his hips again.

Steve was sure he heard that wrong, “We always…”

“I love you. I trust you. I’m clean.”

“Me too.” Steve assured him.

Tony ground his hips back against Steve, “So we don’t need one. I want to feel you.”

Steve almost came right there and then. He drew his fingers out, feeling Tony shiver as it did so, a thin sheen of sweat already coating his back, “Okay, I want that too.”

His cock was leaking and Steve licked his own palm to help lube his cock, spreading both his spit and his precome around the length of him to make sure Tony wouldn’t be in too much discomfort. When he was finished, he moved closer, pressing the tip of his cock against Tony’s entrance as he bit his own tongue to keep himself from moaning.

Tony pushed back against him, the tip slipping inside his tight heat with ease. Steve wrapped one hand on Tony’s hip, burying himself inside Tony inch by inch until he was fully inside him. Tony panted as he rose off the desk a little, hands supporting himself as Steve leaned down to place kisses against his skin.

“I love you.” Steve told him, never tired of the joy those words brought him now.

Tony hummed, “I love you too.”

Steve pressed closer to him, lining up every inch of their bodies so he was almost bent over Tony, hands on either side of the desk for leverage.

Tony pushed up against him and Steve took that as his sign to move, he started off slowly, shallow thrusts that teased the ebb of his pleasure at a constant level rather than increasing it. It was torture and teasing but it was worth it to hear the hitch in Tony’s breath and the feeling of his walls around him without a barrier.

Tony was shaking beneath him, his breath coming out in pants everytime Steve thrust back into him. Their bodies moved together, pushing and pulling to create the friction that was driving them both crazy.

Steve pulled out to the tip and slammed back in again, Tony’s body moving into the desk at the force of the thrust.

“Fuck, harder.” Tony demanded, fingers white against the desk as he ground back against Steve.

Steve pulled out again, slamming back in harder than before as he rocked into Tony’s body, flames licking at his stomach and his name spilling from Tony’s mouth.

“Steve, please.” Tony pleaded, shoving his ass back against more, “More.”

Steve picked up his pace, feeling the relief in his gut as the sparks inside him grew. Tony moaned happily, rocking his hips in time with Steve’s thrust until Steve could feel the sweat dripping down his own back as he thrust back into Tony’s body again.

He leaned down, lips on Tony’s shoulder blade has he licked over the scars from Howard’s treatment and moved up towards his neck. Steve pulled Tony backwards, pressing their bodies flushed together so Tony could throw is head back against Steve’s shoulder and Steve had a clear path to Tony’s neck. He sucked at the salty skin there, teeth grazing as he felt Tony shudder against him.

Tony’s cock was shining with precome, glistening and erect as Steve pulled out and buried himself back in again, watching Tony’s body bend to take him. He was breathing into Tony’s ear, mouth sucking a mark into his neck that might be hard to hide tomorrow but Steve didn’t care. Tony loved him, Tony was with him and around him and everything to him.

He thrusted back into him again.

Tony.

Tony moaned, fingers latching onto Steve’s bicep.

Tony.

Steve released his neck with a wet pop as he pulled back out.

Tony.

Tony was practically vibrating against him, body twitching with pleasure as Steve slammed back against him, watching as Tony’s hips thrust up against nothing in response.

“You want to cum?” Steve asked hotly into his ear.

Tony whined, “Yes.”

“Touch yourself for me.” Steve ordered.

Tony did as he was told, hand moving off Steve’s bicep to his own neglected cock. He whimpered as he took himself in hand, softly stroking the length in his fist. Steve watched over his shoulder in fascination, seeing Tony pleasure himself only made Steve more aroused. God, he was beautiful.

“Steve.” Tony whimpered softly, eyes sliding shut as the back of his head hit Steve’s collarbone.

Steve kissed his neck, “You’re doing so well, a little faster, sweetheart.”

Tony’s hand sped up a little more, thumb swiping over the tip as he pumped himself. Steve could feel his stomach getting tighter.

He thrusted back into Tony in time with his hand on his own cock, feeling Tony pant against him at the onslaught of sensations. He was shaking and squirming with his pleasure, trying to fall into it. Steve knew he’d cum hard.

Steve urged Tony back down, bending slight over the desk so Steve could curve along his back again, slipping deeper inside Tony to hit his prostate. Tony moaned, although it sounded a little more like a sob, stroking himself a little faster as Steve’s own body tingled with the threat of his orgasm.

He moved a hand down to wrap around Tony’s, both encompassing his cock as Steve guided his hand to set the pace. They worked Tony’s cock together, stroking his length at a faster pace than before.

Tony shivered, hips stuttering blindly as Steve increased their hands and his own thrusts grew sloppy as his orgasm teased at the edges of his vision.

Steve wrapped his other hand over Tony’s, that was currently gripping the edge of the desk for leverage, both their knuckles going white and forearms shaking with the effort it was taking to keep them in this position.

“Steve, steve, steve.” Tony babbled, body a livewire on the edge of pleasure, trusting Steve to get him there.

Steve’s lips found his shoulder, the curve where the muscle met the skin of Tony’s neck and he bit down sharply. Tony cried out, hips stuttering as he came. Their hands a tangled mess coated with his cum as the rest of it spilled out onto the desk in front of them.

Steve slammed his hips back in, letting go of Tony’s shoulder to rest his forehead against the bite, chasing his own release. Tony ground back against him, helping Steve as much as he could.

“Come on, baby.” He crooned, fingers moving back to squeeze Steve’s ass, “Fill me up.”

Steve stuttered, hips grinding into Tony as he rutted against him.

“Fuck, Tony.” He panted into Tony’s back as he came inside him. Tony sighed happily, slumping down a little as his legs wobbled. Steve caught him, holding him firmly to his chest as he came down from his high.

“I can’t… I don’t… fuck.” Tony babbled, unable to catch his breath.

Steve pressed a messy kiss into his hair as he slipped out of him, his cum still inside Tony but starting to dribble down the mechanic’s thighs slowly. Tony wobbled again and Steve quickly moved to sweep his legs out from under him before they gave way completely and gathered him into his arms.

Tony went willingly, hands curling around Steve’s neck. Steve kissed him again, softly and sweetly. They needed a shower; He could feel the mess he’d made of Tony’s thighs on his arm and the stickiness of their skin wasn’t helping.

“Shower?”

Tony wiggled his feet, “I think you broke me. I can’t feel my legs.”

Steve chuckled, “Bath?” He offered instead, knowing they wouldn’t have to worry about standing in a bath.

Tony kissed him soundly, “Bath sounds good.” He agreed.

/

“Are you okay?” Tony asked him softly. They were lying in Steve’s bed facing each other, still warm from the bath and sated. Natasha had told them to rest for a few hours, they’d need their strength for whatever came next.

Steve couldn’t rest. His mind was a beehive ready to explode. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tony afraid he might disappear should Steve so much as shift in their nest of blankets. Tony didn’t seem to mind, mirroring Steve as they both laid on their sides. They were fully dressed under the covers despite Natasha’s order, ready for anything at a moment’s notice.

Steve sighed, fingers grazing Tony’s forearm as his hand cushioned his head against the pillow, “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m here.” Tony affirmed, fingers reaching out to cup Steve’s face, palm against his beard.

“I watched Bucky and Nat make so many mistakes, I watched them get weighed down in the hate and anger and fear.” Steve said softly, “they were barely speaking to each other. They wasted so much time and now, we barely have any left.”

Tony shook his head, “Don’t talk like that. This is just another thing we have to get through. Another day.”

“I might have to kill Rumlow.” Steve told him honestly, blue eyes boring into Tony’s like he was pleading him to understand, “If I can’t bring him in. I have to stop him.”

“Are you asking for my permission?”

Steve sighed, hand moving over Tony’s forearm, “Your understanding, maybe?”

“Do you have a plan?” Tony asked instead of answering.

“I’ll go to him, catch him off guard. Bucky will have numbers and a strategy by now. I should go alone. It might get ugly.”

Tony leaned up on his elbow to loom over Steve, “No, we do this together. Whatever happens.”

“Tony, I don’t want you to have to see that.” Steve told him softly, eyes looking away for a brief moment in shame.

“I’ll wait outside, I won’t go in.” He replied, “I just need to know you’re okay and safely out of there.”

Steve nodded, knowing that if that was really what Tony wanted to do then he’d respect it. He’d honour any choice Tony made, even if it wasn’t one he liked. Steve wanted to keep them separate. The Captain and Tony’s Steve, he wanted to have something to protect when this was all over, but Tony was right. If this was the end, then he should be by Steve’s side.

“Okay, I just need the element of surprise. If I can get the jump on him then knock him out, we can deliver him to Fury and with Howard’s testimony the law can do its thing.” Steve explained.

Tony leant down to kiss his hairline, “What about Ross?”

“He won’t stop coming after me. I escaped jail; he’ll target the team. You. I don’t know. He’s desperate. He either catches me or I hand myself in. I’m not sure which one I can stomach.” Steve replied, rolling onto his back in defeat.

Tony was hovering over him in a second, hands on either side of Steve’s face, “Neither. I can’t stomach either.” He said fiercely, “We could leave? We get Rumlow off the streets and it’s done. We all leave, the whole family. We’d have to split up for a while, work our way to a meeting point but we could start over. Somewhere new. I wouldn’t have to deal with Howard. You wouldn’t have to live up to the legacy of The Captain. We could be free.”

“The Captain has been in the driving seat so long, Tony. I’m not sure who I am without him.”

“I know who you are. Maybe it’s time to let Steve Rogers have a go? Run away with me.”

“Tony…”

Tony was firm though, eyes sparking to life, “We could go anyway. Get a car and drive. Nevada, Boston, Chicago. Anywhere you want to go, I’m in.”

Steve gave him a watery smile, “What about Rhodey? And Peter? Your garage? Everything you worked to build here.”

“We can come back one day, when the heat dies down. Give it a few years and people will forget about The Captain. They’ll think you retired or died. They’ll stop looking. They’ll stop caring. We can come back; the whole family can be free of this nightmare.” Tony insisted.

“I’d follow you anywhere, you know?” Steve told him, “I meant it when I said nothing means a damn without you.”

“So, you’ll run away with me?” Tony smiled bright and hopeful and how could Steve refuse?

“Okay.” He smiled back, “We need to talk to the others, get them onboard. Sam has the bar so he might want to stay. Bruce too, he’s put his life into the clinic. He wouldn’t want to leave it.”

Tony nodded, “That’s fine. As long as Ross isn’t after them. They’d be safer if we left anyway. They can still have plausible deniability.”

As it turned out everyone else was pretty much thinking along the same lines as Steve and Tony were. When they suggested their plan to everyone only a few hours later their family didn’t look surprised. Natasha even pulled out a shoe box full of fake passports and IDs for them all except Tony that she had stockpiled away for months. Sam and Bruce wanted to stay, as Steve thought they might, but everyone else seemed to think leaving Brooklyn was the best option for their continued survival. Natasha assured Steve that Bucky was also on board, apparently, they had talked about it months ago when the idea of a turf war started.

“It doesn’t matter where we are, Steve. As long as we’re together. That’s home.” She told him gently, pushing the box towards him at the table. 

Steve smiled sadly as her, Tony right next to him, “Brooklyn is our home. We’re coming back one day, we have to. I have to.”

Sam nodded, “You’ll have a welcoming committee when you do. I’ll even break out the good stuff I keep in the back.”

Steve stared at his friend then. Sam, so strong and brave and true. A spitfire of a fighter in the army and a loyal friend. It would hurt Steve to leave him behind.

“Staying together is more important than how we stay together.” Clint agreed, “It’s not ideal but we’ll make it work.”

Tony nodded, “We’ll have to split up for a bit, Ross will be tracking us so the more people for him to track in different directions the better. Eventually he’ll run out of resources, time and money and the case will be closed by force. Until then, groups of two or three.”

“You pick a direction and you start driving, don’t think too much about it.” Steve told them, “Don’t tell anyone where you’re going until you get there. Communicate by postcards in coded messages. No phones, no emails. Nothing Ross can track. We can’t afford slip ups on this.”

Everyone nodded, the details would be worked out later. After they dealt with Rumlow and right now that was the pressing matter.

“We have 36 hours before Ross gets the green light for a kill order on us. We have to deal with Rumlow and be in the wind before he gets it.” Steve told them, “Bucky is at the docks gaining intel. We need to take this fight to Rumlow. I need him alive. If we can deliver him to the police then maybe it will keep them busy enough to give us a head start.”

Natasha nodded, “We’ll need to take the van. We can drop Rumlow off right on their doorstop then come back here, switch cars and all head out.”

“I’m coming with you, Cap.” Sam told him, crossing his arms, “If this is the last thing I can do to help you then I need to do it. Besides, Rumlow isn’t going to come easy.”

“I know.” Steve sighed, “I’m prepared to do what’s necessary if it comes to that but we have to try to take him alive first. I told Fury I would.”

“How…?” Clint was cut off by a thud hitting the front door so loud it vibrated through the house all the way to the kitchen.

Steve was on his feet in an instant, hand pulling his gun off the table and clicking off the safety. Everyone else followed suit, even Tony was on his feet as Steve went for the front door despite having no weapon.

There was another thud as Steve approached the door, this one weaker than the last. Steve watched a hand smack against the pane of the glass, red smears staining it as the hand dropped from view.

Steve wrenched the door open, aiming his gun. His body was coiled like a spring ready for a fight.

What he wasn’t ready for was the sight of his best friend slumped against the doorstep, face and hand bloody. Bucky was barely conscious, sweat pouring down his face. Steve stared at him in shock. The place where his left arm had been was gone. There was nothing more than a crudely hacked stump from the end of his shoulder. Steve felt the bile rise in his throat and echoed Natasha’s shout in Russian behind him. Her voice sounded far away and tinny.

Steve dropped his gun, hands reaching under Bucky’s armpits to pull him inside. Bucky’s head rolled and Steve felt Thor brush past him to check the surrounding area for the culprits. He couldn’t think about that, he held Bucky in his hands, dragging his body into the living room to get out of the line of fire and yelling for Bruce. He was taken back to Afghanistan, clearing bodies out of bombed out houses and laying them in rows at the side of the road to be claimed by survivors. The stench had been unbearable, clinging to his nose for weeks. Now all he could smell was the tang in the air from Bucky’s blood, now coating his own hands and smearing a trail into the floor from where Steve dragged him.

He backed Bucky up against the side of the couch, hoping that keeping him upright would slow the blood flow and then Bruce was there. His mouth pressed into a firm line and his eyes set to the task at hand.

“This is going to hurt.” He warned Bucky, although it was unclear if Bucky was even lucid. Bruce clamped his palm over the wound with a wad of gauze, using his own strength to slow down the blood pooling from the injury. Bucky screamed in agony; eyes suddenly more alert. His other hand reached for Steve, fingers curling into the neck of Steve’s shirt and tugging so hard he almost pulled Steve over.

Steve gripped Bucky’s wrist in his hand, keeping him steady, “I’ve got you, Buck. Just hold on.”

Bruce was working feverishly, Sam pulling out items from his bag and putting pressure on Bucky’s wound when Bruce needed to get things ready. Natasha had dropped to her knees next to Steve, fingers clutching Bucky’s leg. Her eyes were fearful and desperate, she was afraid. Clint stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder to try and offer her comfort.

Steve spared a glance over his shoulder to Tony, he stood frozen in the doorway and paler than Steve had ever seen him. There were tears in his eyes, Steve met his gaze briefly then Bucky was screaming again, and Steve was back to him.

“They used a hacksaw.” Bruce told him, pulling more gauze and vials from his bag, “Sam, morphine. Yellow label, 5mg in the syringe.”

Sam got to work as Bruce surveyed the wound, “We need to sterilize the wound and seal it but without a hospital…”

“No. Hospital.” Bucky bit out through pained breath.

“If he needs a hospital, I’ll take him.” Steve replied, “Nothing else matters.”

“No. Hospital.” Bucky repeated, “Rumlow. Steve, he…”

Steve shushed him, “Don’t try to talk, it’s going to be okay.”

“Rumlow did this.” Bucky huffed, ignoring Steve’s plea, “Rambling about how this was a common thing in Afghanistan. He said…” Bucky coughed, and Bruce pressed his wound tighter, “He said that I was to be brought back home to give you a message. He wanted me to live long enough to tell you…You played him. He knows.”

Steve nodded, “You’re going to be alright. Right, Bruce?” Steve replied, looking at Bruce. Bruce’s face was filled with sorrow, “Bruce!” Steve demanded.

“He’s losing a lot of blood, Steve. He needs the bleeding to stop and probably a blood transfusion.” Bruce told him.

Sam spoke up then, “I’ll do it. We’re both A positive. We got tested in the army, it was the first thing we bonded over when we met. The only thing we had in common.”

Steve’s eyes were on Bruce, “Can you do it here?”

“Yeah, I can but I need to deal with this wound first.”

“How?” Steve asked, “What do you need?”

Bruce swallowed thickly, eyes on Bucky, “Heat. Clint, in the garage there are some iron pokers. I need you to get one, burn it over the oven, gas up all the way. Wait until it’s glowing orange and bring it to me quickly.”

Clint was off like a shot. Bruce was focused on Bucky again, “Listen to me, Bucky. The only way you’re going to survive this is if I seal up the wound to stop the bleeding. It will scar and hurt like hell but with antibiotics you should be free from infection.”

“I won’t have an arm.” Bucky grit out.

“You’ll have your life.”

Steve squeezed Bucky’s wrist, “Do it. We’ll fix it, Buck. Prosthetics have come a long way.”

“I might be able to design something.” Tony’s voice cut through the hazy of the situation, “I presented at a conference on prosthetics once when I was drunk and only seventeen. I think I can make something sleeker than the run-of-the-mill models.”

Steve looked at him, so grateful and overwhelmed in that moment that Tony would even think of it.

Natasha leaned over him, leaning closer to Bucky, “I’m not losing you. I can’t.”

Bucky tried to give her a smile, “What about your stubborn steak?”

“What about yours?” Natasha countered, “Fight. For me?”

Bucky tried to nod but his head rolled back instead. Clint came running in, handing Bruce the hot poker, glowing an angry orange from the heat. Bucky looked at it with wide eyes. Then he looked back at Steve, “You kill him for this, okay? You cut off his head and let his body rot in the ocean. Promise me, Steve.”

Steve nodded, tears in his eyes, “I promise. I’ll make him suffer.”

Bruce pressed the rod to Bucky’s arm. Bucky started screaming, his whole body jerking before he passed out. The sound of sizzling hot metal burning into flesh filled the room and the scent of burning skin hit Steve’s nose with such a force his eyes watered, and he had to look away as Bruce continued his work on Bucky’s arm.

When it was over, wound no longer bleeding but scarred and burnt beyond recognition, Bucky was still ghostly pale and unconscious. Steve was almost thankful he didn’t have to hear his best friend scream again. He stood up gently, making room for Natasha to take his place as Bruce cleaned and dressed the wound.

“Is he going to be okay?” Natasha asked softly, brushing damp hair from Bucky’s forehead.

“He’s been through a hell of a shock to his system and he’s still fighting. If we can replace the blood he lost and keep on top of any infection he’ll be okay. Mentally though, that’s going to take a toll.” Bruce sighed, “It’s going to be a long-haul process.”

Natasha nodded, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“We need to move him to his bedroom; he’ll be more comfortable there.” Bruce told Steve, “Sam, I’ll need you to come with us. We need to start with the blood transfer while he’s resting. I want to give him chance to heal.”

Sam sighed, “Whatever you need, Doc.”

“Steve…”

“I’m going after Rumlow.” Steve told him, “He needs to pay for this.”

“I’m coming with you.” Natasha replied, wiping her eyes with her hand.

Steve looked at her softly, “You should stay here with Bucky.”

“No.” She said firmly, “I need to see him dead with my own eyes for this.”

Steve knew not to argue with her. She needed this as much as he did.

Tony shuffled closer, “I’m coming too.”

Steve looked at him, blue eyes meeting brown. He wasn’t sure what he saw there, something wild and fierce but it was enough not to talk Tony out of it.

Steve looked down, his hands covered in Bucky’s blood, “You and Sam have everything you need? Clint can stay with you, run out to fetch whatever you don’t have.”

Clint nodded, “Write me a list and I’ll break into the hospital.”

Bruce had his fingers to Bucky’s wrist, checking his pulse, “Okay, we’ll call you with updates. Just be careful. Rumlow is clearly a madman.”

Steve’s eyes were on Bucky’s slumped figure, “And by the end of the night he’ll be dead.”


	19. Chapter 19

Steve’s car came to a screeching halt in the middle of the shipment yard, giving no regard for parking bays or the noise he made on his approach. Steve was raging, gripping the wheel too tight, eyes catching Tony in the passenger seat, gripping the door handle for dear life as Steve took sharp corners and blinding speeds. Natasha and Thor had come with them, sitting in the back of the car with carefully guarded expressions. Steve caught Nat’s eye in the rear view mirror a couple of times on the drive and always found himself looking away, she needed reassurance and he couldn’t give her that until Rumlow was dead. Which he would be soon, Steve would make sure of it.

He was out of the car without waiting for the others, the adrenaline and anger coursing through him reminded him of his time in the army. You put one foot after the other and you keeping going. Don’t stop, don’t hesitate otherwise you’re dead. That training had stayed with him and even now Steve felt like a livewire. He was constantly in motion. He could feel Tony’s gaze on him as he got out the car with the others to join him.

“Steve.” Tony whispered, closing the gap between them as Steve bounced on the balls of his feet. “Look at me.”

Steve tried, managing to hold eye contact for a few seconds before he dropped his gaze. Tony shouldn’t have to see him like this, riding the high of what he was about to do. The downfall he’d have to work through after.

He looked up to the sky instead, the darkness bleeding into the night. He couldn’t even see the stars it was that cold.

“Steve.” Tony tried again, hands grabbing his face to force Steve to stop and breathe.

Steve tried to focus on Tony, those warm whiskey brown eyes, “You said you were staying in the car.”

Tony smiled, “When do I ever do what you tell me to do?” He mused.

“I have to do this, Tony.” Steve sighed, trying to look away but Tony held him firmly, “I have to get Rumlow off the streets and out of this city. I have to…”

Tony cut him off with a kiss, short and a little clumsy but it calmed Steve down enough that his legs stopped moving and his body didn’t feel like a powder keg, “Kill him.” Tony told him softly as he pulled back, “Kill him and come back to me.”

Steve knew what Tony was doing. He was giving him permission. Showing he really did except every dark part of Steve’s soul that he wasn’t even sure he excepted himself. Tony was giving him everything, acceptance, a future, an order. Whatever Steve needed it to be, Tony was giving that to him. And wasn’t that the kicker, Tony Stark making room for Steve’s issues in his heart when Steve couldn’t accept them himself.

“Then we’ll leave.” Steve promised, “Then I’m done. I’m out.” He vowed, giving Tony that same room in his heart that Tony had given to Steve.

“I know.” Tony replied, fingers carding through the strands of hair curling on Steve’s neck.

“Pick a place, anywhere you want. That’s where we’ll start. Don’t tell me when you’ve decided though. You navigate, I’ll drive. I want to be surprised.”

Tony kissed him again, “I know the perfect place. You’re going to love it.”

Steve would love it. He’d love anywhere with Tony. But first they needed to get this done. He thought about Bucky, back at home under Bruce’s care with Sam giving him blood and Clint stealing what they needed from a hospital to make sure he got through this. He needed to do this, for Bucky, for himself, for their family.

Tony pulled back properly, letting Steve go. Letting Steve be what he needed to be to get the job done.

“Nat, you and Tony take the back. Find the bombs Rumlow has been making and disable them. Destroy them. Whatever puts them out of commission.” Steve ordered as Natasha stepped closer to Tony.

She nodded once, “We’ll go in under the radar. I’ll handle Hydra, can you disarm the bombs?”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, piece of cake.” He looked at Steve then, “Does this mean I’m not staying in the car?”

Steve sighed, “You want to stay in the car?”

“God no.” Tony smiled, “Equals. Remember?”

Steve gave him a smile back before turning to Thor, “Thor, wipe the slate clean, okay? No one gets out. If they’re Hydra…”

“They’re the enemy.” Thor finished, swinging the hammer in his hand, “I will leave no stone unturned. For Bucky.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll handle Rumlow.”

“He’ll probably be waiting.” Natasha remarked, “He knows you’ll want him to answer for what he did.”

“I’m counting on it.” Steve replied, pulling his gun out from the waistband of his jeans and clicking the safety off.

They split up as soon as they entered the compound, a maze of half constructed places and structural beams that made up Rumlow’s base at the shipment yard. In the war it might have been a hub of activity but it had been left to fall into disarray not soon after. Steve himself had never ventured down there; it was one of the few places he was warned not to go to as a child. The building was structurally unsafe, rot eroding most of the wooden beams that held the structure intact although it looked like Rumlow was planning to make it his permanent base because there had clearly been work to secure the building before he moved the bombs in. There were now metal pikes along the beams to reinforce the corridor walls and plastic sheeting up to block out the worst of the rot.

Tony and Natasha went left, around the back of the building to find the back exit. It would make the most sense for Rumlow to store any explosives further away from the front door. It would be easier to move them out in an emergency then and he’d need to keep them cooler than the rest of the building due to the volatile materials. Thor stayed with him as they went in the front, there were surprisingly few Hydra members waiting for them which meant Natasha was probably right, Rumlow was expecting him.

The sparse rooms and cold concrete reminded Steve too much of the buildings they used to clear in Afghanistan. Bricks and mortar, nothing to suggest it had once been a home except an abandoned stuffed toy or a missing child’s shoe. Steve felt the same shivers creep up the back of his neck as he did in the army.

Thor went right, hammer swinging easily in his hand as he let out a low whistle. He was drawing the enemy to him, Steve knew. Thor always did like an audience when he used his hammer, a taste of what was to come. Steve continued straight ahead, following the corridor as it bent this way and that. Rumlow was here somewhere and Steve knew he wouldn’t be hiding.

He was right.

Steve made it into the inner chamber, a large open room that formed the central base of the shipment yard. It had probably once been used as the loading bay, Steve could smell the salty air from the docks behind them and feel the harsh wind rolling in from the coast. Rumlow was waiting. He sat on a bunch of wooden crates, slightly rotting on one side. He had a gun in one hand, he loosened his grip as he inspected his fingernails on the other. Steve almost wanted to laugh, Rumlow had built himself a makeshift throne from wood and rot and was sitting on it like a king in his own right.

What made him pause was the whimpering body of Howard Stark at Rumlow’s feet. He was bleeding from his temple, expensive suit all dirty and crumpled as he lay on the ground like a lapdog. A sniffling mass in an Armani suit. Steve didn’t pity him, not after everything he’d done to his son but he knew Rumlow had brought him here to play that card.

A move he hadn’t been expecting.

Rumlow looked up at Steve’s arrival, face relaxed behind the scar running down the length of it. He gave Steve a challenging smile, one the spoke of confidence and arrogance. The same smile Rumlow had worn in the army.

“I see you got my little gift.” Rumlow greeted as Steve walked into the room, gun held aloft and trained on his forehead, “Seemed only fitting I return him to you. Your family does have a habit of poking their fingers into my business.”

Steve could feel himself grow hotter, blood boiling at the thought of Bucky in this place, “You’ve been waiting for me, I see.”

“I knew you’d come.” Rumlow replied, “he screamed, you know? When I hacked off his arm. That’s his blood over there.” He motioned to a spot in the corner next to another support beam. Steve had to swallow the bile in his throat at the sight of Bucky’s blood pooled around it, hacksaw slick with it and left abandoned in the mess.

“He’ll recover.” Steve bit out, “And I promised him I’d cut off your head to even the score.”

Rumlow sighed, kicking Howard so he rolled over onto his back in the dirt. One of his eyes was swollen shut and Steve wasn’t sure he could even form a sentence, “You want to know your problem, Captain? I knew what it was the moment we met in Afghanistan.” Rumlow told him, rising to his feet, “You care. And because of that you put your faith in people. Other people were always going to be the reason for your downfall. Starting with him.”

Rumlow kicked Howard again, a groan escaping the man’s lips. Steve frowned, “I’ve never met Howard Stark before.”

“No, but you are fucking his son, aren’t you?” Rumlow cooed, “You want someone to blame for your man losing his arm? Look no further. You see, after Tony went to see his father about making a deal to testify against me, Howard here, well he came straight to me. He double crossed you and his own son for the money and glory I was offering. Isn’t the right, Howard?” Rumlow kicked him again.

Steve winced, “Enough.”

“He sold you out, Steve.” Rumlow spat his name at him, “Told me about Tony’s little bodyguard. I knew he was one of yours and I knew that was my way in. See, the thing is, I hate people who don’t stick to their word.” Rumlow levelled the gun at Howard’s head, “I think I’ll kill him.”

“Stop.” Steve replied, while he had no love for Howard, and he knew Tony probably didn’t either this was still his father and Steve wasn’t about to let Rumlow kill him to make a point.

“Sorry, I’m being rude. Do you want to do it?” Rumlow offered, “He betrayed you after all.”

“He’s a greedy warmonger who’s looking to make a buck with second grade weapons because he knows he’ll never be as smart as his son. He isn’t worth it.” Steve spat out, feeling his heart race.

Rumlow nodded slowly, “He isn’t the reason we’re here.”

“No. He isn’t.”

“So, he’s in the way.”

The shot rang out before Steve could even blink.

/

Tony and Natasha froze as they heard the gunshot echo through the half-finished walls and airy corridors. Tony could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he gave Natasha a wide-eyed glance.

“Was that a gunshot?” He asked dumbly.

“Yes.” Natasha replied curtly, legs moving down another corridor as Tony jogged to keep up.

“You don’t think…”

Natasha kept walking, “I don’t know.”

“But Steve’s okay, right?”

“I don’t know.”

Tony nodded, of course she didn’t, “He would have shot first. He has to have shot first.”

Natasha turned to him, “I need you to focus, okay? Steve is smart and he’s strong. We have to believe that and get the job done.”

Tony nodded; she was right. Of course, she was right. Steve had given them orders, they had to follow them. Natasha led them further into the building, peering into doorways and checking around corridors. Tony’s mind was on the gunshot. They hadn’t heard another one since. Was it all over ready? How long did these showdowns normally take? Would Steve come looking for them all bloody and ready to hang up The Captain for good?

Or would they have to go find him when he hadn’t returned? Would Tony walk into a room to see Steve’s body on the ground with a bullet in his skull?

He pushed the thought aside quickly.

Steve had to survive. He would. He said he would, then they’d all leave. The whole family.

Natasha held a hand up to stop him and Tony almost walked into her.

“What?” He asked in a whisper, peering over her shoulder.

“I found your bombs.” She replied, motioning into the room on her left. Tony moved out from behind her, eyes taking in the cases of Jericho missiles resting in shipping boxes.

There must have been a dozen or more there. Had Howard fixed the design flaw by himself? Or was he using a different triggering mechanism for the impact. Tony moved round Natasha, walking into the room.

Over a dozen bombs.

This was going to take some time. He stretched out his fingers in front of him.

“I’m going to need one of your knives.” He told Natasha, “And as much time as you can give me.”

“That’s a lot of bombs.”

“Howard likes a lot of money.” Tony replied, crouching down to the nearest box and assessing the situation with his eyes.

/

Steve looked down at the lifeless body of Howard Stark, blood pooling from the bullet in his head and coating the soles of Rumlow’s boots. He didn’t seem to notice, stepping over the body without so much as a glance.

Another dead body on top of hundreds.

Steve thought of Tony in that moment, of having to tell him his father was dead. Would he be relieved or sad? Would he cry and mourn him even though Howard didn’t deserve it?

“Such a waste.” Rumlow commented, “But me and you, we’re men of our words. That’s how we conduct business, right Captain?”

“You’re right and I gave my word you’d be dead before the night was over.” Steve told him, eyes level with Rumlow again.

Rumlow cocked his head at the gun in Steve’s hand, “A shot to the heart? Impersonal. All those times we trained together in the army. All those hand to hand sessions. Is that why you brought a gun? Worried you won’t be able to beat me without it?”

Steve smiled, “I’m just going to enjoy watching your brains splatter out the back of your skull when the bullet goes through your head.”

Rumlow knew he wasn’t bluffing, and he also knew if it came to a shoot-out Steve was faster, so he charged. All tightly coiled bulk, compact and charging at Steve in a second. Rumlow kept low to throw Steve’s centre of gravity off and then he was barrelling into him, shoulder to chest and it sent them both to the ground.

Steve hit the floor hard, back stinging against the cold concrete through his jacket as Rumlow landed with him. The gun was knocked from his hand and Rumlow had thrown his own away mid-charge. He wanted this to be bloody and vicious and animalistic. He wanted to walk out of there with Steve’s blood on his skin and claim his victory like a bloody crusader, getting the dirty work done.

He was on top of Steve before Steve could get his bearings, smashing a fist into Steve’s face with a brutality that Steve knew was from his army days. A blinding rage that guided all his movements. Steve needed to gain the upper hand and fast.

Rumlow hit him again and Steve could feel blood on his face, a trail of liquid trickling out of his nose. He let out a breath, waiting until Rumlow brought his fist up to strike again and then he acted. He had sparred with Thor and Bucky enough to know how to deal with an opponent like Rumlow. He was open just before the hit and Steve used that. He brought his own fist up, punching once at the soft tissue of Rumlow’s armpit and then jabbing him hard in the stomach. The move startled Rumlow and knocked the air from his lungs which was all Steve needed to throw him off balance. He rolled them over, arms on Rumlow’s jacket as he slammed him against the ground.

Steve was on him in a second, hands lifted Rumlow’s body up by the jacket before bringing his head back down against the concrete again. He did it again. And again. Rumlow was laughing under him, blood steady blooming from the back of his head. The blood from Steve’s nose dripping onto his jacket.

“If only you had this much fight in Afghanistan.” Rumlow spat out as Steve smashed his head back down again, “You might not have ended up in the desert.”

Steve growled, “What did you say?”

Images of the desert flooded his mind. The hot sun burning his skin off in chunks. The desperation for food, for water. The blood and sand coating his face, his hands. He shook his head to rid himself of the images.

“You don’t remember?” Rumlow breathed out, “I did hit you on the head pretty hard. I thought I’d killed you there and then.”

Steve brought him up and back down again, Rumlow gripping onto his wrists to get him to stop, “There was a bomb.” Steve replied, trying to shake the images from his mind.

“You were hit. In the med tent. I paid a couple of guys to drag you out whilst you were high on morphine. You barely put up a fight. The great Captain. Weak and pathetic. I almost felt sorry for you.” Rumlow replied.

Steve shook his head, Rumlow was messing with him. He needed to stay focused, but he could remember it. The medical tent, the bandages pressing against his skin. He could hear Rumlow’s laugh in the hot air of the evening and felt the sharp impact of something on the back of his skull.

Steve slammed his head down again and Rumlow’s eyes rolled back. His vision was off centre, and his grip was loosening around Steve’s wrist.

“We drove you out to the desert.” Rumlow whispered, “Threw you from the moving Jeep in the middle of nowhere. I knew by the time you came around the tracks would have disappeared in the shifting sand. I wanted you to die out there. That was me, Steve, I’ve already killed you once.”

“You won’t get the chance again.” Steve promised, releasing Rumlow’s jacket to pummel at his face. Steve hit him furiously, left fist then right fist then left again. Over and over again. He watched as Rumlow’s head snapped left and right, felt a crunch of jawbone under his hand and the slick slide of blood decorating his knuckles and Rumlow’s face.

Rumlow was barely fighting back anymore, how long had Steve been hitting him? His hands were red and Rumlow’s face was almost unrecognisable. Nothing more than slick red blood and swelling and the marred skin of his scar.

Steve pushed himself away from Rumlow in disgust, sliding to the concrete next to him with heavy breath and shaky hands. Rumlow had left him to die in Afghanistan. He’d gone out of his way to leave Steve in the desert. Because Steve challenged him? Stood to up him? This is what Rumlow did when people got in his way, he got rid of them.

Steve had been the son of a bitch who had refused to die.

Rumlow wheezed back into consciousness with a bubble of blood spitting out of his mouth and a heave of his chest. Steve watched him as he dug his fingernails into the concrete beneath him and tried to open his eyes.

The narrow slits of red looked at Steve and a bloodied smile curved onto his face, “It doesn’t matter if you kill me or not. You’re not getting out of here. It’ll be a body bag or handcuffs, Captain. Men like us aren’t suited for anything else.”

Steve frowned, “That body bag already has your name on it, I’d hate to steal it from you.”

“Didn’t you ever find it odd how the special task force only seemed to focus on coming after The Avengers?” Rumlow spat out, blood coating the floor as he turned to turn on his side, “They didn’t so much as pull one of my men in off the streets.”

Steve felt the icy grip of fear in his chest at Rumlow’s words, getting to his feet with shaky steps, “What are you talking about?” He demanded.

“You really hate not knowing, don’t you?” Rumlow mused, “Their boss plays on my team.”

“Ross?” Steve bit out, chest tight.

“He’s Hydra.” Rumlow laughed, “All he wanted in return was you. And a bonus to donate to his unit but that one was easy. I was going to hand you over to him when you turned yourself in to me but well, the cops beat me to it.”

Steve shook his head. Ross was Hydra? When, for how long? Is that why he’d been so focused on getting Steve to trial. Why he didn’t want Fury in charge of the immunity deals and why he was reluctant to take Steve’s offer in the interview room. He was never going to play that card because he was in business with Rumlow.

“How long?” Steve demanded.

“Shortly after he got to town.” Rumlow replied, “I knew you were working with the cop, figured I’d do one better.”

Rumlow knew he was working with Fury which meant Ross knew. Fury was in danger.

Steve shook his head, “You killed cops, he wouldn’t help you.”

“No, Steve.” Rumlow smiled, “You killed them remember? Or at least, that’s what Ross thinks happened. He must be on his way by now. I told him once you escaped custody it was only a matter of time before you came for me.”

Steve kicked him in the stomach to stop himself from shouting in frustration. He should have seen it coming. Ross, Rumlow, it was all connected. Steve had been treating them as two separate problems, but they were the same one. Rumlow had played this the same way Steve had and Steve had fallen for it.

He was so busy wrapping his mind around that thought that he barely saw Rumlow moving out of the corner of his eye.

/

Thor surveyed the damage around him, bodies piled up throughout the length of the corridor with blood and brain matter decorating the walls and the floor. There were even splatters of it on the ceiling, a new personal best.

His hammer was a mess of slick red blood, creating a dribbling trail next to him that carved out his path of destruction.

Hydra would be done before the night was out and Thor gleefully allowed himself a moment of triumph. He couldn’t help Loki when he needed him, he couldn’t protect his brother from the mess he had fallen into thinking he was clever enough to play both sides, but he could do this.

He could help Steve and carve out a safe pocket in the streets of Brooklyn for other people.

Loki would call him a fool and arrogant, but Loki wasn’t here and the truth was, Thor liked it. He liked the numbness killing brought him, the chance to let his inner demons drop into the background of his mind and focus on this. The sound of his hammer shattering skull and pounding flesh. The way the blood marked the walls and the floor, and the way bodies fell in lifeless heaps on the ground around him.

He was a God in those moments, playing life and death and destruction. The God of Thunder. The last sound someone heard as Thor brought the hammer down on their skulls.

There was a peace to it.

Something Steve knew only too well.

There were not good people, but the world had made them that way.

Thor heard shuffling to his left and swung the hammer up in his palm again. There was more work to be done.

/

They grappled across the ground, each getting in their own hits as they went. Steve blindly looked for his gun, but it was across the other side of the room and he had no hope of getting to it.

Rumlow wanted it to be hand to hand and so it would be.

Steve was slammed against the ground again, feeling something wet and sticky under him. He glanced to the side to see blood, drying and congealing onto the concrete beneath him. Bucky’s blood. Steve could feel himself sliding against it and wanted to heave.

Rumlow punched him in the chest, a knee over Steve’s stomach to keep him there.

Steve struggled, bringing an arm up to block the hit coming his way.

“I’ll come after them next.” Rumlow told him as he struggled to overpower Steve. They were locked in a stalemate fighting for dominance.

Steve grit his teeth and pushed back, “Go to hell.”

“Once you’re dead I’ll go after them. Take Bucky’s other arm maybe? I’ll use a knife on Natasha, it’s only fair. She’s so fond of them. And Tony, what about Tony?” Rumlow taunted.

Steve thrashed against him trying to throw him off balance, “I’ll fucking end you, Rumlow. I swear to God.”

Rumlow paid him no attention, not even when Steve managed to push a finger into Rumlow’s eye socket and pull it away bloody. “I’ll make him suffer the most. Maybe I’ll lock him in a cell with your dead body?” Rumlow mused, “How long do you think it will take for him to lose his mind?”

“Fuck you.” Steve spat.

“He won’t be much of a genius without his marbles, right? Do you think it would work? Does he care for you enough that losing you will end him?” Rumlow asked.

Steve was done talking. He thrashed again, this time managing to get the heel of his hand against Rumlow’s throat. He pushed, flipping them over so Rumlow was lying in the blood and Steve had him pinned, using his knees to secure his arms to the ground.

Steve loomed over him, an impressive tower of strength and rage. His piercing blue eyes stark against the blood on his skin. He could see the hacksaw off to his left, Rumlow had sown the seeds of his own execution it seemed.

He reached for it blindly, watching Rumlow’s eyes grow wider at the realisation of what Steve was doing.

It all came down to this moment.

He wanted Rumlow to beg, to sniffle and plead for his life but Rumlow wasn’t going to.

“If you kill me, you’ll still have to deal with Ross.” He warned Steve, “You think he’s just going to let you ride off into the sunset with your family and your boyfriend?”

Steve felt the weight of the saw in his hand, saw the shine of Bucky’s blood on the blade, “Ross didn’t cut off my best friend’s arm and kidnap my fella.”

Rumlow looked scared in those last moments, a wild fear that had him shaking under Steve and fighting back with more strength than Steve thought he had.

Steve was stronger though, he raised the saw high, making a show of it for Rumlow. It would be a bloody death, a folk story about the rage of The Captain that no one quite believed. Steve brought the saw down with as much force as his tired limbs could manage, severing his neck in a river of red.

He pulled the saw out and did it again. And again. And again. Steve worked with a numb passion until there was nothing left to hack. Rumlow’s head lay a few centimetres away from the rest of his body with the force of Steve’s movements, eyes open in fear and lifeless.

Steve was covered in blood, the back spray coating his face and beard and his hands were slick with both their blood as well. He looked like a nightmare and Rumlow was dead.

“That was for Bucky.” He spat out bitterly, staggering to his feet and away from the body.

He felt the saw drop to the ground with a clang although he couldn’t recall dropping it. His eyes fixed on the body before him, the body he had hacked apart with nothing more than a saw and his own brute strength.

The Captain, animalistic and angry and dangerous. This was what he was capable of. Now he knew.

Thor was right, the darkness in him that just wouldn’t let go. The numbness that washed over him. They were men of action. Rumlow had been the same.

And now Rumlow was gone.

Steve backed away slowly, keeping his eyes on Rumlow’s body as he went. Howard was still there, lifeless and grey. Steve didn’t even stop to pick up his gun. He needed fresh air.

/

Tony wasn’t sure how long Steve had been sitting out there, in the cold night air with blood covering every inch of him that Tony could see. Him and Natasha walked out, spotting him instantly, alone and guarded and almost other-worldly.

Tony wanted to run to him, but Natasha held him back. They walked together, making their footsteps slower and louder so Steve didn’t spook at their arrival. They had managed to disable the bombs easily. Natasha shot three Hydra members that came their way as Tony worked, cutting the various wires with a clinical detachment.

Steve had clearly had worse luck, but Tony was thankful he was here. Alive. With them.

Tony moved ahead of Natasha, dropping to his knees in the snow in front of Steve with a soft expression, “Hey, you’re okay. I’m here. We’re safe. You’re okay.” He rambled, watching as Steve broke through the mask of indifference he wore.

Those blue eyes, arctic blue, stood out amongst all the blood. He had a split lip, a bruised cheek and Tony didn’t even want to guess at how many other bruises and injuries were hiding under his clothes, “Tony.” Steve said softly, relief and recognition bringing him back to himself.

Tony nodded, “We neutralised the bombs. They’re nothing more than scrap metal now.”

“Rumlow’s gone too.” Steve replied, “I… he killed your father. I’m so sorry.”

Tony stopped short, hands on Steve’s knees, “Howard was there?”

“He sold you and Bucky out to Rumlow for the money.” Steve told him, “I couldn’t stop him in time.”

Tony’s mind was faster than Steve’s, “He’s the reason Rumlow knew Bucky worked for you. He’s the reason Bucky lost…”

Steve nodded, “I’m sorry about your father.”

“You killed Rumlow, it’s done now.” Tony replied softly as Steve cupped his cheek, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live. Ross is Hydra though, it’s not over yet.”

“What?”

Thor came bursting through the door of the shipment yard, a bloody picture of joy with his hammer, “No Hydra members left alive, Captain.”

Steve nodded, fingers trailing over Tony’s cheek, “There’s just one.”

“And I think he’s coming to us.” Natasha replied, nodding her head towards the distance where the blue lights were flashing ever closer to them.

Steve stood up, holding out a hand for Tony to take, “You should go.”

Tony linked their fingers together, “You stay, I stay.”

They couldn’t run, it was a dead end. They couldn’t fight an entire police force either. This was judgement day and Ross was wielding the knife.

The cops came to a halt in their small clearing, piling out of cars and taking up aim at all four of them. Steve pushed himself in front of Tony slightly to block them from him. Ross came from the centre of the force, wearing a bulletproof vest and a victorious smile.

“Really Captain? Breaking out of jail just to wrack up your body count? You’re just making my job easier for me.” Ross said, walking towards them slowly.

“I know what you are.” Steve told him, “Rumlow told me everything.”

Ross stopped short for a second but then the smile was back in place, “Arrest them all. No immunity deals this time Captain.”

Fury wasn’t with them. What had Rumlow done to him? Rhodey wasn’t there either. Steve saw them swarm their little group, tackling the hammer out of Thor’s hand and herding Natasha to the ground. Steve felt himself be ripped away from Tony’s fingers, hands being shoved behind his back to be cuffed.

Tony was in front of him receiving the same treatment, his eyes boring into Steve’s. He looked scared although he was doing his best to hide it, a steely gaze and a set jaw. Every bit the survivor.

Steve struggled against the cops holding him, fighting his way over to Tony. He managed to wrestle free long enough to close the gap between them, fusing his lips with Tony’s in a tight kiss. When he pulled away Tony had a smear of blood on his cheek that had transferred from Steve’s own skin, “Don’t say anything. We have a lawyer; you’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Steve…”

“I love you.” Steve cut him off and then he was being pulled back and forced to the ground. He watched as Tony was hauled towards one of the police cars, his hands cuffed. He tried to look back but the cop with him forced him forward again.

Steve was hauled to his feet, eyes on Natasha and Thor as they were led towards different cars, ones with steel bars and armoured escorts.

Natasha’s eyes were brilliant with defiance, a strong hold and firm shoulders. Thor was struggling and raging and shouting. Tony had his face pressed up against the window inside his car, eyes on Steve.

Ross was beside him suddenly, a cold presence and a whispered phrase, “Hail Hydra.”

Then Steve was moving, being shoved in his own direction, towards a police van with bolts in the floor and twelve cops standing guard to accompany him to the station.

He kept his eyes on Tony for as long as he could, hoping he conveyed strength and hope and trust. Tony looked frantic and worried.

Ross was Hydra.

This was a set up.

The door closed shut with a bang and he lost sight of Tony as the engine started up.


	20. Chapter 20

Tony was escorted into a small room at the end of a corridor, not a cell or an interview room like he had first thought. Instead he was pressed into a box room with a small slit window. The room was once a storage cupboard of some kind and now seemed to act as an office.

There was a desk pressed against one side, paperwork stacked up on the right with a bunch of other files. A pen pot that had once been a mug occupied the left, along with a letter opener that stood out gleaming silver against the wood. Other than that the place was bare, not that anything else could fit into it.

The cuffs were taken off him and as soon as he was free Tony rubbed at his bruised wrists with the pad of his thumb. He squinted through the dim light in the room that the overhead bulb provided. There was only one chair. Was he meant to sit in it? Was this the first step to getting arrested?

He needed to see Steve. Was he in a room like this one? Or had Ross dragged his family down to the holding cells without so much as reading them their rights. Was Rhodey here? Did he know Tony had been arrested and was possibility about to be charged with who knows what? Steve had told him to stay quiet, let the lawyer do the talking and be in the clear but honestly, all Tony wanted was to know what was happening with his family.

They had done a good thing tonight. They had got the bombs off the streets and stopped Rumlow’s reign of terror in its tracks. Didn’t that count for something? Steve might have killed him, but he was a bad guy, surely that was a point in his favour. Rumlow was a cop killer and a tyrant. He’d killed Tony’s father.

Howard.

Tony hated the small spike of something rising in his chest at the thought of his father’s body back at the shipment yard. There was no love lost between them, but Tony hadn’t wished him dead. He was meant to cry though, right? That was the first sign of grief after the shock wore off, with his mother Tony had cried for days and yet he hadn’t shed a tear for Howard since Steve had told him.

Was he broken?

He shook his head; he couldn’t do this now. He needed to focus. He had to find out where Steve was. This wasn’t over yet, it couldn’t be. Ross was Hydra, that meant they could still get out of this. They could find a way to discredit him, out him as the dirty rat he was. They could still figure it out.

Steve’s face flashed in Tony’s mind, the way he looked so helpless and guilty as the police hauled him away from Tony at the shipment yard. Beard and cheeks smattered with blood, blue eyes so full of emotion Tony wanted to choke.

It couldn’t be over.

He couldn’t accept he’d never see Steve again. Even if he got out of this completely free thanks to Steve’s lawyer how could Tony walk out that door and let Steve rot? Natasha and Thor were there too. How long before Ross came for the others? This was his family too, he wasn’t able to walk away from it. If they were going down then Tony would be right there with them.

The door opened with a creak that made Tony jump and Ross strode in through the doorway, shoulders hunched. He looked even more imposing in the small space and Tony almost wanted to press himself up against the wall to put more distance between them.

“Thank you. Leave us.” Ross motioned to the cop that had brought Tony in. There was an exchange of nods between them and the cop slipped out, leaving Tony and Ross alone in the broom cupboard of an office with everything surging between them like a river.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, the way he had seen Steve do so many times, he had nothing on Ross in terms of height or bulk, but he needed to show he wasn’t scared.

Ross spared him a passing glance, moving to prop himself back against the edge of the desk. Tony stayed where he was nearest the opposite wall, feeling completely out of place in his ratty jeans and jacket. Ross’ suit was crumpled, and he’d lost his tie, but he still looked more put together than Tony felt.

“Where’s Steve?” Tony asked when the silence stretch on between them.

Ross shrugged, “I’ll be interviewing him after this.”

The silence returned and it made Tony’s skin crawl. Too many nights with Howard where there was nothing but silence before the breaking of a glass or the sizzle of burning flesh.

“I know you’re Hydra.” Tony told him, “I know this is a set up.”

Ross chuckled, “Is that right?”

“Is this some sort of interview technique? Weird me out to get under my skin?” Tony pressed with a scowl.

“This isn’t an interview, it’s a conversation, Mr Stark.” Ross replied, hands gripping the desk, “And I’m just trying to figure it out.”

Tony squinted, “What?”

“How someone like you ends up with someone like him.”

“None of your business.” Tony snarled, pushing off the wall with the heel of his foot.

Ross watched him with curious eyes, “I’m sorry about your father. Rumlow was always a hothead.”

“Don’t do that.” Tony spat, “You don’t give a shit. Tell me why I’m here instead of in cuffs.”

“Because you’re not under arrest, not yet anyway.” Ross replied, pushing himself off of the desk to stand again, “You’ve got a clean record. No blood on you. I can’t arrest you for sleeping with a mob boss.”

Tony wasn’t sure what was happening, and he was desperately trying to catch up, “So I can go?”

Ross gave him a small smirk that made Tony want to run, “Not exactly. I’m here to offer you a choice, Mr Stark. A choice I’m sure your Captain would want you to accept.”

“Which is?”

“Make a statement about tonight’s events. A testimony to Steve Rogers’ killings and his gang activity. In return I won’t charge you with being an accessory to murder.” Ross replied.

Tony let out a small laugh, “You want me to tie the knot for you to hang him with?”

“He’s going to jail either way.” Ross mused.

“Go to Hell.” Tony snarled, stepping closer as the blood in his ears pounded, “I will _never_ sell him out. I’m loyal to Steve Rogers. I’m loyal to The Avengers. You want to arrest me; you go right ahead. You won’t get anything out of me that you can use against him, I promise you that.”

Ross seemed mildly irritated, Tony could see his right eye twitch as he crossed his arms over his chest and paced the small space. It wasn’t lost on Tony that he put himself in between him and the door.

Tony watched Ross carefully, noticing every little detail. The beads of sweat that collected on his temple, making it shiny in the dim light. The way his skin pulled too taunt over his knuckles, making them white and strained. Ross was holding back a whole flood of emotions and Tony knew he was in the firing line.

“You lost tonight, and you know it.” Tony told him, voice low and firm, “You lost your leader. You lost your pay packet. You lost your victory.”

Ross’ face grew redder, “You think I lost. Your boyfriend is sitting in cuffs right now, he’s going away for the rest of his life.”

“But you wanted Rumlow to kill him.” Tony guessed, “You don’t care about the bombs or Rumlow’s plans to rule Brooklyn. You want to clean the streets of gangs. As long as Steve Rogers is still alive, as long as there are Avengers walking those streets then you lose. And you hate it.”

“This isn’t the ending I wanted, you’re right there but it’s still one I can use to my advantage.” Ross told him, closing the gap between them until he was throwing the words directly in Tony’s face like a parade, “I can pick up The Avengers one by one. The two in the holding cells first, then I go for the bartender? Or perhaps the Doctor?”

Tony bit his tongue, “I’ll stop you.”

Ross laughed, “You? You’re not a mob boss, Mr Stark. You’re barely a gang member. I bet you’ve never even fired a gun before? Or used a knife?”

“They’re my family.” Tony responded, eyes dark as he all but forced Ross backwards with his presence until Ross hit the desk again and Tony had closed the gap, “And I’ve lost enough of that tonight.”

“You think he loves you. He doesn’t. He isn’t capable of love, a monster like that never will be. I’m doing you a favour by showing it to you now.” Ross replied, keeping his voice even despite the waver Tony could see in his eyes.

“You know nothing about him.” Tony snarled.

Ross nodded, “But I know what will happen to him. I’ll personally make sure it’s a lengthy trial. A murderer of his profile, they’ll put him in a hole underground to wait for sentencing. No natural light, stale air. No human contact. Just darkness and waiting. He’ll barely look human when he finally gets his trial. No one would believe he is anything less than a killer.”

Tony shook his head, “You can’t.”

“I can. I have pull in the right places. I’ll push for them to move him to a state that has the death penalty. It won’t be too hard when everyone thinks he’s a cop killer who just hacked a man’s head clean off.” Ross smiled, all teeth and smugness.

“You’re the monster, not him.” Tony uttered between them, seeing the glint in Ross’ eyes. He was enjoying this. The pain it brought Tony, the fear. The power. Ross was coming alive with every threat he threw Tony’s way.

“Then I’ll come back for you. After he’s dead, after you’ve watched. I’ll hunt you down and make sure these streets aren’t yours either. Every corner, every day, you’ll wonder if this is the one where I come for you.” Ross pushed further, “No Captain to save you, no Avengers around you.”

Tony swallowed, blinding panic rising up inside him at the thought of having to watch Steve die, the thought of being alone. He barely registered that he was reached a hand behind Ross until he felt heavy cold metal in his palm.

“I don’t need to be saved.” Tony whispered between them.

Ross was still smiling, “You’re not a survivor, Mr Stark. You don’t have what it takes.”

Tony gripped the letter opener tighter into his fist, muscles aching with the grip, “You’re wrong. I am a survivor.” He moved so fast he couldn’t remember making the decision. One minute he was looking at Ross, seeing the fear and panic reflected into his eyes from Tony’s own and then he was bringing his hand up, pushing the sharp point of the letter opener into the soft skin of the underside of Ross’ jaw, “And I do know how to use a knife. You find a soft point and you push.”

Natasha had told him that very same thing once, hadn’t she?

Tony pushed, the metal digging further into Ross’ skin. He didn’t look away from the panic in Ross’ eyes as the warmth of his blood trailed down the metal and onto Tony’s fingers. Ross shook but Tony gripped his arm tight and pushed even harder, watching as the metal slipped in further. He was panting with the effort, there was so much blood. Ross was gurgling, hands reaching out uselessly for grip on something.

Ross’ body stuttered, giving up the fight that Tony had won. His body went lax as Tony pulled the letter opener out with a shaky hand, more blood gushing down his hand and onto the floor between them.

He stood back, stumbling with the weapon in his hand as Ross’ body fell to the ground without Tony’s help holding him up. Blood was still pooling out of the wound, so much blood. Too much blood.

Tony was frozen, he couldn’t speak or move. His hand was red and slick and shaking. Natasha had told him to find a soft spot and push and he had. God, what had he done? He stared at the letter opener in his hand again before dropping it to the floor in disgust. Oh god…

Oh God.

Ross wasn’t moving, his eyes were frozen in panic. Tony had killed him. He’d killed him. He had to. He wasn’t going to stop, he was going to come for Steve, for Natasha and Thor and Sam and Bruce. For Tony. They wouldn’t have been safe. He was Hydra, he was a bad person.

Tony wanted to throw up.

His legs were shaking now too, and his heart was beating too fast and God, was he dying too? He couldn’t catch his breath and his eyes stung.

He killed a man.

Tony sunk to the floor on his ass when his legs gave out, not caring that the pool of Ross’ blood was creeping closer to him. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hand pressed against his mouth as the sobs came.

He was getting blood on his face, but he didn’t care, his body heaving with the weight of his sobs. He tried to be silent, to force the sounds to die in this throat. Ross was still staring at him, glassy eyed and pale.

Tony was a monster now.

Ross had gotten what he wanted.

There was so much blood and he was still shaking and fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What had he done?

/

“I’m guessing this wasn’t part of your plan?” Fury’s voice echoed as he stepped into the room, he carried an air of something about him, but no pity or judgement laced his voice and for that Steve was grateful.

He was back in the same interview room they had put him in before, the clock still ticking on the wall. They hadn’t processed him yet, instead just cuffed his hands to the table as if to protect themselves from him. That was rich when Ross was Hydra and calling their orders.

Steve could feel the dried blood clinging to his face, making his beard itch and a rusted copper tang assault his nose whenever he breathed too deeply.

“Tony, is he okay?” Steve asked when Fury had closed the door and was taking a seat opposite him, “The others, where are they?”

Fury looked weary, dark circles under his eyes than made him look ten years older. Steve knew how that felt, “Tony hasn’t been officially charged. Ross is talking to him now, probably wants Tony to testify against you. Natasha and Thor are being processed downstairs.”

Steve nodded, “So, what happens now?”

“Ross will interview you, build a case, set a trial. The normal stuff.” Fury shrugged, “You didn’t tell me you were going to kill Rumlow.”

“You sent a mob boss to do a cop’s work because you couldn’t get it done yourself. What did you think I was going to do?” Steve asked with a scowl, “He wouldn’t have stopped. We both know it. I’m not saying it was right but I’m not sorry either.”

Fury nodded once, “Neither am I.”

Steve looked up at him in shock, he hadn’t expected that. Fury was studying him closely, his good eye assessing Steve with a deep sense of conflict. He was searching for something, but Steve wasn’t sure what.

“Can you tell Tony…” Steve paused, not sure what to say. What message would be enough to convey how sorry he was. How much Steve loved him?

Fury seemed to sense Steve’s loss of words, “I’ll make you a deal. You have an honest conversation with me, here and now. No cameras, off the record. And I’ll make sure he’s brought down here to answer a few questions once he’s done with Ross. You’ll get to say it yourself then.”

“What do you want to know?” Steve sighed, the thought of seeing Tony again, even if it was to be the last time, was a thought he was clinging too like a dying man.

“What part of this story am I missing?” Fury pressed, “Rumlow and the bombs, I get. You and your motive to protect your family, I get. Hell, I even understand why your boy is upstairs right now remaining loyal to you despite everything you’re facing. What I don’t understand is the missing link. Why Rumlow thought he would be so untouchable to be able to move bombs in this city without anyone batting an eyelid.”

Steve studied Fury in that moment, he’d always respected how smart the man was, and now it seemed even then he’d underestimated Fury. He had clearly been working this case on his own, unable to let it lie. Perhaps he was more like Steve than he realised.

“He had politicians funding it,” Steve paused, unsure whether telling Fury the whole story was wise or whether he’d see it as a desperate attempt for Steve to cling onto his freedom, “And Ross. He’s Hydra. I don’t know how long for, since he came to Brooklyn probably.”

Fury exhaled sharply, “Jesus. I knew he was obsessed with bringing you in, but I thought that was job dedication. I didn’t think he’d ever be one to double dip his hat. Ross always seemed straight as an arrow.”

“Rumlow gave him money and he needed the glory of bringing in the gangs, bringing in me.” Steve shrugged, “Greed drives men to madness sometimes.”

“But not you.” Fury mused, “Something else is driving you.”

Steve shuffled in his seat, cuffs chaffing his wrists, “My family. I walk a fine line between who I am and who I never want to be. They keep me on the right side of that line. Whatever I became, it would have happened a lot sooner and a lot worse if it wasn’t for them.”

“You know, when I became a cop it was because I wanted to help protect this city.” Fury reclined in his chair, “It wasn’t glory or recognition. It was about making a change. Being a cop allowed me to do that. I think that’s why you do what you do. Same reason as me, different methods.”

“It hardly matters now.” Steve replied.

Fury leaned closer, “I think it does. I think it should. Am I right?”

“I joined the army to help people and I think I took more lives than I saved.” Steve sighed, “You get an order, you follow it. You don’t always agree with it. I couldn’t live like that so when I got back it was like nothing had changed in Brooklyn. I fought for peace a million miles away, but my own home was suffering. I joined Phillips’ gang because I couldn’t look at those streets and see it anymore. I liked it, being able to make a difference and see those same streets changing. It felt like it mattered. That’s why I took over, because if I didn’t then all that fight and change would have been for nothing.”

Fury nodded, “Hydra would have won.”

“Why do you care about my motives?” Steve pressed gently.

“Think of it as a job application?”

“A job application for what?” Steve frowned, “I’m about to be committed for murder.”

Fury nodded, rubbing his chin, “But what if you weren’t?”

Steve blinked, “What?”

Fury shuffled in his seat again and Steve could imagine him ordering his thoughts, “Ross failed. He’s corrupted and he’s Hydra which means the gang problem is still out there and it’s only going to grow. No offence but you folks spread like rot.”

Steve snorted, “Charming.”

“There were talks from higher up the food chain about what to do if Ross failed. I was put on Ross’ taskforce to evaluate how he ran it and the level of its success. I was offered a chance at a promotion if Ross couldn’t get the job done. I’d be heading a unit that specialises in gang crime and gang violence. A way to learn and prevent this type of crime as it grows. If you’re right about Ross then I’m about to land that job.”

Steve frowned, “What does that have to do with me?”

Fury leaned even closer, “I want you to come work with me. You and your family. Look, I’ve been in this job a long time and I know these streets, I know the legal stuff but you, you have the kind of knowledge about operations and mindset that I’ll never have in a million years. I don’t think a unit like this could work without someone like you on board.”

“I’m cuffed to a table and I’ve been arrested, Fury. You can’t be serious?”

“I am.” Fury insisted, “We’ll get this case thrown out due to Ross’ involvement. We’ll out him as Hydra. No one will want to prosecute when it’s this much of a mess. I’ll say you were my informant, you helped with Hydra and Ross in return for immunity.”

Steve shook his head, “We didn’t sign…”

“Didn’t you?” Fury raised his eyebrow, pulling out a wad of papers from his jacket. Steve looked at them closely, the familiar immunity deals paperwork he’d once stared at for hours on end. They now bore different signatures that looked nothing like his family’s but were meant to represent their agreement in this arrangement. Fury had doctored the paperwork.

Steve frowned, “Fury, you son of a bitch.”

“Easy, I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?” Steve demanded.

“Because I believe you. I believe you want to help your city and I’m offering you that chance. You’re not a monster, Steve, no matter what you think of yourself. You’re a war veteran who saw some messed up shit fighting another man’s war and who couldn’t shake it. I’ve seen killers up close and you’re not like them.” Fury replied softly.

Steve felt uncomfortable, leg tapping under the table, “So, you risk your job just like that? Because you think I’m a semi-decent person?”

“You kept your word, didn’t you?” Fury pointed out, “You helped me with Hydra. You stopped Rumlow. In exchange for your word I promised you immunity, I kept my word too. You don’t have to accept the job with me, the immunity will still stand. Just know, this job is the only way I can guarantee you all stay together and walk out of this. Without it, immunity is a mixed bag. Witness protection at best, you’d all be separated. You’d never see Tony again.”

Steve’s mind was reeling, “With this job, we’d all stay here in Brooklyn?”

“I can make that happen.” Fury nodded, “I’ll be running the unit out of here, so you’d all need to stay together. There will be conditions, trackers to make sure you’re accounted for until you can prove your trust. I’m putting my faith in you, but it doesn’t mean everyone will. House arrest, maybe, for the first few months. I haven’t worked out all the details yet.”

“You’d do that for us?”

“Steve, I can’t do this job without you and I really don’t want to have to watch your trial. Orange isn’t your colour.”

Steve managed a half smile, “So I’ve been told.”

“What do you think? There’s a lot to discuss if you’re in but I need to know now, before Ross comes in here to interview you. Once you’re on the record, this gets harder.”

Steve nodded, “I can’t make a decision like that for everyone else. I need to ask them.”

Fury sighed, “Okay, I’ll go see if Ross is finished with Tony and we’ll go from there.”

“Thank you, Fury.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Steve shrugged, “I’m not just thanking you for this.”

/

There was a knock on the door minutes later, but Tony didn’t register it, he couldn’t stop looking at Ross’ body near his feet, blood pooling under his shoes now.

“Detective Ross?” Rhodey pushed the door open and Tony couldn’t look away from the body on the ground with him, “Fuck. Tony.”

Rhodey was there, to his right with worried eyes. He was scared but Tony was numb. Ross was watching him.

“Tones, what happened?” Rhodey reached out to touch him but Tony scooted back quickly, scuttling across the small floor space until his back hit the wall and he couldn’t go any further, his eyes never leaving Ross.

“No, don’t touch me.” Tony shouted hoarsely, trying to make himself smaller, “I’m a monster. I’m… I killed him.”

Rhodey held up his hands, “Okay, slow down. Just tell me what happened.”

“I killed him.” Tony breathed out, the sobs coming back, “I killed him. I had too, he was going to come for us. All of us. I couldn’t… You protect your family. You have to protect your family.”

Rhodey tried to move closer but Tony shook his head violently and tried to curl up tighter, “Okay, I’ll still right here, okay?”

Tony was still focused on the body, “I had to. I had to.”

“Okay. Okay, Tones. Just breathe. Just look at me and breathe.” Rhodey pleaded, crouching down even further.

Tony shook his head, eyes never looking at Rhodey once, “I had to.” He repeated.

“This is a big mess, okay? There are reporters outside for you and you’re covered in blood and fuck Tony, this is bad. I don’t know how to get you out of this one.” Rhodey’s voice was sad and heartbroken and Tony wondered if he could cry for Ross and Rhodey and even Howard together.

“He was Hydra. He was a bad person. He was Hydra.” Tony told him, the sobs dying out, but he was still shaking.

Rhodey nodded, “Okay, if he was Hydra then I believe you. This isn’t how you want to start your reign at SI though.”

Tony didn’t even blink, “SI?”

“Stark Industries. Howard’s death is all over the news. You just inherited the company and became a billionaire.” Rhodey told him softly.

Tony shuddered, “No, I’m a monster. I’m a monster. There’s so much blood.”

Rhodey opened his mouth to speak when the door opened again. He spun round to see Fury in the doorway, Tony stayed focused on Ross.

“Oh Jesus.” Fury cursed, slipping in the room and closing the door, “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Ross was Hydra.” Rhodey explained.

“Rogers told me.” Fury confirmed, “You can’t just kill people, not in a police station. Not when they’re members of the police. That isn’t how it fucking works in the real world. Christ, this is a mess.”

Rhodey sighed, “Tones…”

Tony shuffled further along the wall, “Don’t touch me. Please, don’t touch me.” He tucked his knees further up against his chest.

Fury let out a breath and scrubbed his hand over his face, “Shit.” He muttered, “Stay with him, don’t let anyone else in. Lock the door until I come back.”

Rhodey frowned, “Where are you going?”

“To get Rogers.” He glanced at Tony for a second before moving back to Rhodey, “We need to snap him out of this and clean this mess up before anyone else comes looking.”

“We’re cops, we can’t cover it up!” Rhodey protested.

Fury narrowed his eye, “That’s your best friend and he killed a corrupt cop who was really a Hydra member. Probably saved all our asses. You really want to go down that road?”

“How are we going to get him out of this?” Rhodey asked helplessly, “He killed a man.”

“We’ve all killed someone in this job.” Fury sighed, “I still remember your first kill on the job. You couldn’t sleep right for months.”

Rhodey sighed, “This isn’t his job.”

“Isn’t it?” Fury replied, “Stay here. I’ll be back with Rogers. I’ll explain then. Keep your distance or you’ll spook him and then we’ll have a whole new problem on our hands.” Fury ordered, glancing down at Ross’ dead body once more, “Shit.” He sighed before slipping out the door again.

/

Steve looked up sharply when Fury walked back in, striding over to unlock the cuffs without looking him in the eye. He was tense and Steve frowned. Something was wrong.

“What’s happening?” Steve asked, feeling the metal give way, “I thought you were bringing Tony to me?”

Fury unlocked the other cuff and the metal clacked against the table, “Change of plan. You need to go to him.”

Steve rubbed his wrists gently, “What about Ross?”

“Not going to be a problem.” Fury sighed, “Come on.”

He had already spun on his heel and that left Steve with no choice but to follow him. Steve caught up with Fury easily, grabbing him by the arm and halting him in his tracks. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread in his stomach, Fury was too cold and aloof. Had he changed his mind about his offer? Had Ross gotten to him?

“What the fuck is happening?” Steve insisted with wide eyes, attracting the attention of a few nearby uniformed officers.

Fury shook his head, grabbing Steve’s arm and drawing him over into a corner for privacy, “Ross is dead. Tony killed him.”

Steve shook his head, “No, he wouldn’t. He’s not…”

“He did. He’s pretty bad, won’t let anyone near him. I think you’re the only one he’ll talk to right now.” Fury sighed, “This is bad, Steve. When I offered you the job this wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Is Tony okay?” Steve asked instead, mind reeling. He couldn’t focus on anything else, not the lifeline Fury had offered him slipping through his fingers, not even his own fate. His mind was a constant buzz of Tony, Tony, Tony.

“Come on.” Fury replied, guiding Steve down the hall and towards Tony.

Steve was in a state of shock himself. Tony had killed Ross? Why? He wouldn’t have done it unless he had to. Steve was sure about that; Tony wasn’t a killer.

Except apparently, he was.

Steve shook his head, what had Ross done? Had he hurt Tony? Threatened him?

He needed to see him, to help him. Tony must be freaking out, he’d be scared. Had Fury left him alone to get Steve, he shouldn’t have left him alone. Tony wasn’t built to kill, not like Steve. Steve had been given a gun and told to go to war. He had trained his body to be comfortable with the act of taking a life. He understood it on its most basic level, kill or be killed. He had adapted to it. Tony hadn’t signed up for that. Tony was good and thoughtful and cared so deeply. This would destroy him.

Steve refused to let that happen.

Fury pushed him into a small room at the end of a corridor and the first thing Steve saw was blood. There was so much of it in the room, coming from Ross’ body which was slumped on the ground, a letter opener a few feet away. Steve swallowed thickly. This wasn’t a cold calculated kill of someone who knew what they were doing. This was a spare of the moment fight or flight response.

Tony was curled up into a ball in the furthest corner from the door, his eyes wide and unfocused. He was staring at Ross, not moving or blinking aside from the small shakes that wracked his body. Steve’s heart broke, Tony looked so lost and scared and young. Steve wanted to hold him.

Rhodey was there, eyes on Tony but he’d kept his distance. At least he hadn’t been alone.

“He won’t let me get any closer.” Rhodey told Steve softly, not even looking at him.

Fury had locked the door behind them, giving Steve space.

“Tony.” He tried, watching as Tony winced at the sound of his own name.

What the hell had happened here?

“Tony, it’s Steve.” Steve tried again, taking small steps towards him so not to startle him as he avoided the blood soaking into the floor.

Tony shuddered in his corner, “Steve?”

Steve tried to give him a reassuring smile, crouching down so not to appear too imposing, “I’m here, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Tony wasn’t looking at him and Steve knew he needed to get him to look away from the body, he didn’t want it to be the only think Tony saw when he closed his eyes. He got closer, if he stretched out his arm, he’d be able to brush Tony’s knee but he didn’t try it. Tony was holding himself together in a state of shock right now and Steve knew any sudden contact or movements would shatter it. He saw this a lot in the war, young soldiers who suddenly learned what they had signed up for in a violent outcry of blood and bullets. He’d heard them cry at night for their mothers and pray to their Gods. He watched them strip away every ounce of their humanity in order to survive the job.

“Tony…” His voice was soft but the worry bled through it.

Tony shook his head, “Don’t come closer. The blood, you’ll get blood on you.”

Steve shook his head gently, offering Tony his own bloodstained hand, red from Rumlow’s blood dried to his skin, “I already have blood on me.” Steve replied.

Tony flashed a glance at Steve’s palm before darting his eyes back to Ross’ body, “I had to do it. I had to.” He muttered.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Steve promised, “We need to clean this up though, okay?”

“I can’t. I can’t look away. I can’t.” Tony shivered and Steve knew it wasn’t from the cold.

Steve crept a little closer, hand outstretched, “Yes, you can. Look at me, Tony. Just look at me instead.”

“Steve.” Tony whispered.

“Right here, look at me, sweetheart.”

Tony slowly tore his eyes away from the body and met Steve’s. They were scared and lost; a wild brown that made Steve want to cry for him. He wouldn’t be able to come back from this, he knew, Tony’s only chance was to make room for it.

“I had to.” Tony uttered, every syllable breaking Steve’s heart.

Steve nodded, “I know. It’s okay. It’s over.” He promised, “Take my hand, okay? We’ll fix it together.”

“I can’t.”

Steve stretched his fingers out further, “You can. Just take my hand and hold onto me.”

Tony uncurled slightly, fingers of his left hand twitching to reach for Steve’s. He waited patiently, not wanting to rush Tony. He had to be the one to make that move. He had to prove he wanted to fight this otherwise he’d already lost the battle Steve knew was ahead of him.

Eventually, Tony touched his fingers to Steve’s, slowly moving them down towards his palm until his cold fingers were curling around Steve’s wrist and Steve was able to latch his own fingers around Tony’s.

“We’re going to fix this, okay?” Steve promised, “You’re safe. Can you stand up with me?”

Tony nodded weakly although he didn’t make any effort to move from his spot by the wall. Steve went slowly, rising to his feet, still gripping Tony’s hand until Tony was forced to get to his feet as well.

He was covered in blood and he was still shaking but he looked more focused now, his eyes taking in the room around him. His gaze fell on Steve again and Steve smiled encouragingly, the fingers of his free hand brushing some hair away from Tony’s forehead.

“He threatened us. I had to. He wasn’t going to stop, Steve. He would have…”

Steve squeezed his fingers, “You don’t need to explain it to me, okay?”

He felt the relief run through Tony’s body at Steve’s acceptance. His word was enough, and Steve wasn’t about to be the one to question him on yet. Tony would tell him when he was ready but right now, he needed Steve’s help.

“Now what?” Rhodey asked from behind them.

“Now, we clean up a body.” Steve sighed, “Rhodey, can you find Tony some clothes? Also head to the morgue and grab a body bag. Don’t let anyone see you, avoid the cameras if possible.”

Rhodey frowned, “No way, this is illegal.”

“It’s for Tony.” Steve reminded him, “Fury, is there a way to get the body out of here without being seen?”

Fury hummed, “I can knock out the cameras and we can take it through the service exit. Why are we moving him though?”

Steve sighed, “Because he can’t be found here. He needs to be found at the shipment yard, along with something on his person that proves he was Hydra.”

“That won’t work, everyone saw him return after he arrested you.” Fury replied.

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t leave again; someone needs to take his car as well. Ditch it down by the docks. It needs to look like he went back there for something and got caught by a rogue Hydra member who deemed him a traitor. It needs to look like a gang crime.”

Fury frowned, “That’s a big gamble.”

“Normally yes, but right now with The Avengers having been pulled in off the streets? Everyone in a gang is scared and murder-happy tonight. Ross went to the docks, made threats Hydra didn’t like now Rumlow is gone about taking over, they killed him and left his body there.” Steve replied, “We’ll have an alibi as we’ve all been in police custody since Ross brought us in.”

Rhodey was looking at Tony, “Okay, then what?”

“You come back here and scrub this room clean. Bleach the floor, get rid of the weapon. Take it with you, throw it into the sea. We’ll need to burn Tony’s clothes as well.” Steve ordered, “No trail, no way to tie this back to any of us.”

“We need to spin this story very carefully for what happens next.” Fury told them, the warning in his voice clear.

Steve nodded. “Ross’ body being discovered with something related to Hydra will prove he was working with them. We just need to shape our own narrative. You get your new unit; we get our freedom. We make sure nothing like this ever happens again. You said so yourself Fury, with Ross being Hydra the case isn’t credible anymore. This is the only way we all walk away from this now. Together. If anyone finds the body, you’ll both be charged along with us. We’re stuck together whether you two like it or not. Your survival and ours depends on us pulling this off.”

Fury nodded, “He needs to shower and change. Third floor, there is a locker room with a shower unit attached. Take the back stairs so no one sees either of you. Rhodey will bring you clothes. I’ll grab some evidence we can put with the body to confirm he’s Hydra.”

Steve nodded, “Okay Tony, let’s go wash this off, yeah?”

Tony nodded, “Yeah.” He breathed, all but collapsing into Steve’s side. The move threw Steve for a second and he stumbled to support Tony against him as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the other hand still in Tony’s grip.

Fury moved out of the way to let them past, “Thank you.” Steve nodded in his direction.

“It seems like you’re always thanking me for something.”

“I’ll try to return the favour.” Steve promised, guiding Tony out the door.

They made it to the locker room without being seen, luckily the back stairs didn’t seem to be used for much more than a service stairwell and due to the late hour most of the regular beat cops had clocked off shift. It was a small station, they couldn’t afford that many night covers on their budget. Steve only knew that because it was something T’Challa had been trying to improve since he first got into office, he was thankful now all of T’Challa’s efforts proved unsuccessful.

Tony hadn’t spoken since they left the room and Steve was worried he was slipping back into his shocked state. He moved with Steve, letting him guide him through the doorway towards the shower unit at the back of the locker room. He was still shaking, subdued shudders that rolled across his body and had Steve gripping onto him tighter like he only could squeeze all of Tony’s fractured pieces back together.

The first time Steve had killed someone was in the army, a gun shot and a close range to stop someone from planting a bomb on a railroad. It had been quick and impersonal and over in a second. He’d had nightmares for months after, Bucky used to wake him up every time the screaming started.

He didn’t want that for Tony. That torment. That fractured piece of your soul that could never repair itself. Steve had gotten better at killing because he had to, he was ordered to. Now, even though he could remember the names and the faces, he couldn’t see them when he closed his eyes anymore. He was also more scared of that than he was of the nightmares.

He glanced back at Tony, who was doing as good a job of holding himself together as he could. Steve had released his hand to turn on the shower and let the water warm up and Tony had wrapped his arms around himself instead like he was trying not to lose anything.

The water started to steam up as it reached temperature and Steve slowly made his way back over to Tony.

He stood in front of him, watching those brown eyes see him properly and his hands uncoil from his sides, “We need to take these off.” Steve said gently, fingers tugging on the jacket Tony wore to help guide it down his shoulders.

Tony didn’t answer but he helped Steve take off the jacket and let him lift the shirt of his head, lifting up his arms to help. Steve smiled encouragingly at him, that was good. Tony was consciously present at least. The blood stained his hands and there was a streak of it over his cheek and chin. Steve doubted he fared much better, but it looked wrong on Tony. The mark of blood on his perfect skin.

His hands reached down to Tony’s jeans, gently popping the button and undoing the zipper. Normally, undressing Tony was one of his favourite things to do but now, as he guided both jeans and boxers down his legs in a move Steve had done a hundred times before, he wished he didn’t have to.

Tony let him, stepping out of the rest of his clothes and kicking off his shoes. He stood before Steve, naked and shivering and barely himself.

“Okay, let’s get you in the shower.” Steve said gently, hoping that by explaining what he was doing Tony didn’t freak out on him.

Tony placed a hand on his chest, stopping Steve in his tracks, “Stay with me?” He asked, voice so soft and vulnerable. Steve hated it, he hated seeing Tony reduced to this by Ross of all people. Had he won? Was this his final victory?

Steve nodded, “Okay.”

He stripped off his own clothes as quickly as possible until he was just as naked as Tony before leading him into the shower. Tony went numbly, and Steve followed him into the steam and the spray of the water, shutting the frosted door behind them.

Immediately, the water at their feet started turning pink, running in rivets off Tony’s body as Steve guided him into the warmth of the water. He stopped shivering from the heat and Steve allowed himself a moment of relief, hands working to wash the blood off Tony’s cheek with gentle fingers. They didn’t have a washcloth or shower gel here, guessing that the cops normally brought their own in with them so Steve carefully made sure he caught every bit with his fingers, moving over the skin and revealing Tony’s natural colouring. He focused on his task, other hand cupping Tony’s neck to support him as Steve worked.

The steam created a thick cloud of privacy around them, fogging up the walls of the shower and blocking off the view from beyond their little bubble. He felt Tony relax with him, in their little moment of peace. His hands came up to Steve’s sides, just holding onto him with firm fingers as Steve continued to clean him up.

Tony looked like he was wrestling with something, his eyes flicking to Steve’s face and back down again every few moments. Steve said nothing, waiting for Tony to be ready.

He moved down to Tony’s jaw, going through the same treatment of cleaning the blood from his skin when Tony finally spoke, “Am I a monster?” The question broke Steve in two and he found himself gripping Tony’s face in both his hands to get him to look up at him. Steve needed him to hear this and know it was the truth.

“No, never.” Steve replied firmly, “Never, Tony.”

Tony seemed torn, brown eyes searching, “How do you know?”

Steve leaned down to place a kiss to his forehead, “I just know. Am I a monster? After all the things I’ve done? The people I’ve killed?”

Tony shook his head, “You could never be a monster, Steve.” It was the strongest his voice had been since Steve had found him and he was thankful to hear it.

“Exactly. So, if I’m not a monster then there’s no way you can be one either.” Steve explained, “You’re a genius, do the math. Physically impossible, right?”

It seemed like Tony wanted to smile, mouth quirking a little at Steve’s logic, but it didn’t make it onto his face, “He threatened us. He said he was going to lock you away; make you suffer and then get you the death penalty. He said he was going to come for us. Natasha, Thor, Bucky, everyone. He said he’d save me for last so I’d always live in fear of the day he finally came for me.”

Steve could hear the emotion creeping back into Tony’s voice, felt the way his fingers tightened a little too tight on his sides. Damn Ross. Steve wished he was still alive just so he could kill him again. Damn Ross. Tony didn’t deserve any of this and Ross knew what to say to get to him. He knew what he was doing by riling Tony up, although Steve doubted he knew just how effective that little speech was going to be. He had tried to back Tony into a corner and Tony had fought back. And now it had cost him.

“He was a bad guy, Tony. He was Hydra.” Steve sighed, “You did what you had to do to survive.” And it was the truth. Ross wasn’t going to stop and Tony’s instincts were right to stop him but Steve never wanted it to be him that had to make that sacrifice to protect them. It wasn’t meant to be a burden on Tony’s shoulders.

Tony stepped closer to him, more water running down their bodies and turning the stall floor a dusty pink, “I can’t stop seeing him, lying there…” Tony looked away for a moment to collect himself and Steve gave it to him, “Does it ever stop?”

Steve wanted to tell him something good and reassuring but it would be a lie and Tony wouldn’t want it. He’d want the truth. Steve sighed, hands mindless soothing the skin of Tony’s shoulders, “No.” He breathed, “But it will get easy. One day you’ll wake up and realise you didn’t have that same nightmare like every other night. One day you’ll be able to look at the sight of blood and not think back to that room downstairs. You’ll be able to breathe a little better and sleep a little longer. You’ll be able to say his name without wanting to throw up. It doesn’t stop Tony, you just make room for it.” He paused, gauging Tony’s reaction. He nodded, like that was the answer he was expecting, “You’re a survivor, Ross tried to take that away from you and you told him no. I know you can survive this. Otherwise, even now, he still wins.”

Tony seemed to stiffen at the thought, eyes finding Steve’s again, “How do you do it?”

Steve gave him a soft smile, “I have you. I have our family. I surround myself with people I love because that way, if I slip and I fall back into that pattern of letting them win, I have to deal with the fact I failed this family, and I can’t. I can’t fail you.”

The answer reached Tony; Steve felt him roll his shoulders a little. His eyes got a little browner and his jaw less harsh. It was a start. But this was an uphill battle and Steve knew it would take a lot more than that for Tony to beat his demons. He’d do it though, Steve would make sure of it. He wasn’t about to lose him after everything they’d been through to stay together.

“What do we do now?” Tony asked, “Natasha and Thor? Are they still here?”

Steve nodded, the last of the blood on Tony’s face swirling down the drain between their feet, “Yeah. We’ll get them once we’re done here. Fury offered us a job working with him on a new unit. It comes with immunity; we’d all be able to stay in Brooklyn together.”

“You took it, right?” Tony asked, “I need you. All of you. I can’t…”

“Hey, I’m going to take it. I just didn’t want to make a big decision like that without talking to you or the team first.” Steve explained, “I’m not making anymore decisions without you. Partners, right?”

That got Tony to smile, it was small but Steve could feel his relief and was glad that it broke through his haze, “It’s weird…” He trailed off slowly, like he was finding the words.

Steve stroked his cheek with his fingers, “What is?”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to feel anything after… I didn’t think I’d be able to feel love or happiness or relief.” Tony sighed, “But I do. I love you, Steve. It’s still there.”

He gave him a watery smile, placing a sweet kiss to Tony’s mouth. It was tender, almost too tender and he pulled back quickly, “I love you too.” He said in return, the words blooming in his chest like a fountain.

“What about the others? How do we tell them…”

“I’ll say I killed Ross, you shouldn’t have to….” Steve started, wanting to protect Tony from having to admit to it if he wasn’t ready.

Tony shook his head, “No, I did it… I… killed him. I need to tell them the truth.”

Steve nodded, glad that Tony was open and ready to making that step and he wasn’t in denial about it. That was good, the acceptance would make it easier for him in the long run and whilst Steve would protect him if he needed it he was glad that Tony was allowing himself this chance to move forward.

“Okay, we’ll do it together.” Steve promised as Tony tucked his head into Steve’s shoulder, breathing him in. Steve wrapped his arms around Tony, holding him tightly, “We’re going to be okay.”

Tony seemed to nod into his shoulder and Steve felt his lips leave a small kiss against his collarbone. They’d be okay, they had to be.

“Swap with me.” Tony said as he pulled back, “You still have blood in your beard.”

Steve moved them in the small space until he was standing under the spray and he tipped his head back, letting the water run through his hair and down his face. He felt Tony’s hands working through his hair, unknotting it and washing out any blood that was there before moving to his beard.

They’d be okay.

Steve would make sure of it.

Whatever it takes, he vowed to himself, whatever it takes.


	21. Chapter 21

They held a funeral for Howard three weeks later. Or, Tony held one for him. Steve knew he was doing it out of duty more than anything that even remotely resembled love. He did it because it was the right thing to do, because it was what the press and everyone at Stark Industries was expecting from him.

Steve knew it still had to hurt more than it helped though.

Tony played his part perfectly, never pretending to be the doting son but giving Howard a final send off after a cruel ending as a mark of respect for the legacy he left behind. The legacy that now belonged to Tony.

There were dark nights where Tony wanted nothing more to burn it all down to the ground. Nights when he whispered things to Steve that he’d never admit in the light of day. Steve listened and held him on those nights, let him work through the mess of feelings he had over his father in his own time and his own way.

Of course, Howard was just the tip of the iceberg.

Tony had gone from a mechanic to a CEO billionaire in charge of a major company overnight and on top of everything else he was going through Steve knew he was struggling. He’d see it in the way Tony would spend restless nights beside him, tossing and turning because he couldn’t shut his mind down. He’d see it in the way Tony turned to coffee like a vice, knocking back cup after cup like it was healthy. He’d see it in the way Tony’s shoulders sat when he came home, rigid and exhausted, those evenings where he could barely manage much more than to stumble into Steve’s arms and hope he’d catch him. Steve always did but he hated that Tony was being reduced to this.

Eventually Steve had to call him out on it, the worry eating at him with every passing day. Tony had looked up at him with such shock that Steve had even noticed and adoration that he cared enough to voice his concerns that Steve wanted to bring Howard back from the death and punch him all over again. They went to bed that night with things a little easier between them, Tony actually slept, and Steve found himself drifting off soon afterwards without the worry of his boyfriend’s health.

Steve had been placed under house arrest, along with the rest of the Avengers as a precaution to his deal with Fury whilst he worked to set up the new unit and convince his superiors that he could control the once Captain and that this path was the best one to achieving their shared aim. That meant he was useless for the first time in years and Steve found himself slowly going crazy. He had his family and Tony around him and that was the important thing, but he hated the constant waiting.

A few days after Howard’s funeral, Tony called a press conference for Stark Industries, inviting the world and its media to attend. Steve had wanted to be there for him, to show support for his first official press conference as the new CEO but thanks to his house arrest he could do nothing more than sit at home and watch the conference broadcast on television like everyone else.

His stomach was in knots, Tony had spent the night at his own place after working late last night as it was closer to SI than Steve’s was and it killed him to know how nervous Tony was about this press conference whilst knowing there was nothing he could do to support him other than send a text Tony probably wouldn’t get until it was over.

Tony never wanted the company, Steve knew. He didn’t want Howard’s legacy or money. He was a mechanic and that was what he loved in his heart. Steve had told him to be true to that, following his heart had brought them together after all.

The television camera spanned over Tony’s appearance to give his statement, looking both impressive and rigid in his pressed three-piece suit as Steve shifted forward in his seat, trying to get closer to the screen as if Tony could see him.

“Thank you all for coming out today,” Tony greeted when the noise around him died down. The camera zoomed in on a close up of his face as he addressed the press and the world, “A lot of you have been wondering about the direction of this company and the next steps we plan to take after my father’s passing.” He had an even voice, respectful and dutiful and rehearsed. Steve found himself curling his fists into the sides of his thighs as he listened.

“Today, I give you that answer.” Tony continued on the screen, eyes darting across the mass of people in front of him, “We are no longer a weapons manufacturer. From now on Stark Industries will be a pioneer researcher for clean energy. That’s our new focus.”

The room around him erupted into chaos, questions and voices layered over each other. Tony held firm but Steve could see him gripping the sides of the podium a little too tightly in his hands. He had single seconded destroyed his father’s legacy with one sentence and replaced it with something more honourable and people had noticed.

Tony smiled and waited for the voices to die down before pressing forward, “You give me five years and I’ll give you a fully self-sustaining Brooklyn. A city where children don’t have to know what it’s like when their parents can’t afford to pay the electricity bill. A city where children aren’t getting sick and weak from something as basic as no heating. We need to change the future. No, we can change the future and it starts right here in Brooklyn.” Tony finished, eyes staring straight into the camera and locking with Steve like he was talking directly to him. Steve felt his heart give a weird flip-flop in his chest, remembering a time not so long ago when he had told Tony his own story about growing up sick and poor in this very city.

Steve had tried to make Brooklyn safe but Tony, Tony was going to make it _better_.

He felt a surge of pride rise up in him that only Tony seemed to bring out as Tony wrapped up his statement, “I will be staying on at Stark Industries as R&D support. From Monday I will be stepping down as CEO to focus on my own business, but I hand the reins over to Miss Pepper Potts, who will no doubt serve you all incredibly well in this endeavour. She has my full support and backing, and I hope you show her yours as well.”

He’d done it. Tony had gotten himself free of Howard’s legacy and was putting himself first. He’d told Steve that running SI would end up making him miserable, so Steve had challenged him to change it and Tony had. He would still have the garage and consult for Stark Industries in their new ambitious project but he was still free from the grip of his father and the world of the press that Steve knew he hated so much. In the past two weeks alone, there had been hordes of stories and coverage on Tony’s ability to take over from Howard, his partying ways and the mistakes he’d made as a teenager. Any bad thing linked to him had shown up in full force.

Well, nearly every bad thing.

Steve, Rhodey and Fury had managed to cover up Ross’ murder perfectly. Two cops and a mob boss had the shared knowledge to make sure no one suspected a thing they didn’t want them to. Ross’ body was found two days after he was killed, down by the docks in what looked like a shoot-out gone wrong. Steve had even gone down there to fire off a couple of shots into the shipment containers from Ross’ own gun so it looked like he tried to fight back. The official story was he was a corrupt cop, working for Hydra to cover up their operation. There were bombs found at the shipment yard that supported that theory and Ross’ own phone found with his body held all the evidence needed to prove he was Hydra. He’d gone down to the docks after The Captain was in custody to assert his authority over Hydra now Rumlow was dead. Hydra hadn’t liked that and fought back. There had been a gun fight and during the struggle someone had charged at him, managing to get the upper hand and stab him in the throat, leaving him to bleed out. Fury had been assigned the case as a stroke of good luck and really everything fell neatly into place after that.

Tony was in the clear, home and dry, only Steve and the team knew about what really happened to Ross and they always protected their own. Tony had done it to protect them after all. There wasn’t a discussion to be had other than to assure Tony he was safe and he was family.

If only everything could be that easy.

Killing a man had effected Tony in a way that not even Steve could predict. He woke up screaming and struggling most nights, that fear and horror at the realisation of what he had done sending him into a panic attack. Ragged breathing and shaking and Steve could do nothing but stay with him as he rode it out, getting him to match his breathing to Steve’s and muttering reassuring words to him until he came back to himself. It tore Steve’s heart out and it didn’t seem to be showing any signs of stopping. It was one of the reasons Steve hated it when Tony spent the night at home alone, he worried that he’d have a nightmare and be by himself. Steve would break house arrest for him in a second if Tony needed him but he knew Tony better than that. He wouldn’t call, he’d suffer in silence until morning and then try and play it off like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing.

Whilst the nightmares and panic attacks were the most obvious sign that Tony wasn’t coping with everything he’d been through in recent weeks, they weren’t the only sign. Steve would pick up on the little things he was sure Tony thought no one noticed but he did. He knew Tony, completely, body and soul and he would always notice. It was there, written in the way Tony would wince slightly whenever Natasha was twirling a knife in her hands at the kitchen table. It was there in the way the blood drained from his face when Sam had cut his hand open at the bar and needed stitches, coming home with a blood-stained shirt that forced Tony to look anywhere but in that direction. It was there in the way Tony watched him sometimes, when he thought that Steve wasn’t looking, with a disbelief that Steve was there, loving and protecting him after everything he’d done.

It was a slow process, but Tony was still fighting and for that Steve would thank whatever God made him that way.

Steve would fight with him till the ends of the earth if that’s what it took. Ross wasn’t going to win this one, not now, not ever.

/

It was another week before Steve got the call from Fury that said he was off house arrest and was expected to be at the station on Monday bright and early to start work. Steve had felt a freedom in his bones and had a list in his head of all the places he wanted to take Tony now this mess was over.

Fury had pulled him back into reality with a harsh, “And a haircut wouldn’t kill you, Rogers. New job, new start and all that. It’d probably be easier on you if my cops could separate you from The Captain in their minds.”

Well, Steve Rogers had once been a boy scout so he was nothing if not prepared.

Tony found him later that day, coming home from a shift at the garage with grease on his cheek and a smile on his face. Carefree, happy, at least for a moment. He pushed his way into Steve’s bathroom on his floor, blinking his eyes against the steam and heat coiling up from the tub. Steve was reclined in the bathtub, back resting against one end with his feet at the other.

He smiled as Tony blanched at him, taking in his new appearance with eager eyes and a coy smile. Steve was clean shaven, his sharp jawline visible and his lips looking fuller than before. He had also got Natasha to cut his hair back to the way he used to wear it in the army, shorter and stylish. In the summer, the sun would warm the ends and it would look blonder too. Tony was still staring at him.

The Captain was gone.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Steve asked with a shy boyish smile.

Tony laughed, closing the door behind him as he kicked off his shoes and worked on undoing the buttons on his shirt, “More like there’s something missing.” He commented as he undressed.

Steve let his hands slip from the sides of the tub under the water, “Fury’s idea. Time to say goodbye to The Captain.” He felt almost nervous despite the fact Tony was getting naked a few feet from him.

He finished kicking off his jeans and boxers with a smile, “I like it. It makes you look younger.”

Steve huffed, pressing his knees against the sides of the tub as Tony made him way over. He stepped into the water without an invitation, settling himself between Steve’s legs with his back resting against his chest.

“Is younger a good thing?” Steve asked, hands coming up to wrap around his boyfriend as Tony all but melted against him in the warmth of the water.

Tony hummed, “Who knows. At least I won’t get beard burn anymore.”

“You love it.” Steve replied.

Tony leaned to the side, one hand reaching up to run along Steve’s smooth jawline before bringing his head down for a kiss. Steve obliged, teasing and playfully kissing Tony before rubbing his cheek along his lips for good measure, “I love this too.” Tony said softly, brown eyes warm with affection.

Steve pressed his thighs against Tony’s legs, “How was your day?”

Tony’s fingers went to Steve’s thighs on either side of his body, letting himself slip down further to get comfortable, “Well, a job I thought would be done in an hour might actually take me two days and we closed early today so I could drive Peter and Ned to the vet. Apparently, Ned is actually a girl and she is expecting kittens.”

Steve gave a small laugh, grabbing a sponge from behind him to rinse down Tony’s chest, “Well, you must be the only garage that runs an animal shelter on the side.”

“I didn’t sign up for this.”

“No, but you love the kid.” Steve replied, washing more warm water over Tony’s body, watching it rush down his skin.

“He’s growing on me.” Tony conceded, fingers stroking down Steve’s leg, “I came by to pick up the paperwork for SI that I left here yesterday. I couldn’t find it downstairs. Pepper will curse my existence if I show up tomorrow unprepared.”

Steve gave his shoulder a kiss, “Natasha went into cleaning mode. I put them all on my desk.”

Tony puffed out a sigh of relief, “You’re the best, you know that?” He dug his fingers into Steve’s thigh again, “Honestly, having two home bases is exhausting.”

“Why don’t you just go back to having one then?” Steve asked, feeling Tony freeze in his arms. Steve stopped his administrations, sponge pressed again Tony’s collarbone.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Steve blanched, “What, no!” He assured, holding Tony tighter, “I’m asking you to move in with me.”

Tony turned in his arms as much as possible in the small space, looking at Steve softly, “That’s a big step.”

“I’m ready if you are.” Steve promised.

Tony hummed, “People will talk. Those papers seem to love reporting on my every decision. There was a buzz feed article the other day debating my choice of smoothie for lunch.”

“Seems to me like people are already talking, sweetheart.” Steve replied, “Might as well give them something to talk about. Besides, I’m not a mob boss anymore.”

“You’re still trouble, Rogers.”

Steve smiled, “But you love me anyway.” He sassed, “So what do you say? Equals? Partners? I know you’re a hot shot business owner now…”

“I’m a mechanic who happens to own a company, and I’m completely yours. Partners. Equals. Always.” Tony echoed back, a smile on his face, “Yes, I’ll move in with you, Steve.”

Steve felt himself relax and Tony along with him, he continued running the sponge over Tony’s abs as Tony settled back into his position, “Tony, I spent years trying to cleanse the streets of Brooklyn with the blood on my knuckles but you, you’re doing it with a literal beacon of light in the dark. You’re the most remarkable man I’ve ever met.”

Tony’s hand found his, gripping it fiercely as he turned back to look at Steve again, “We’ll do it together, for every little boy who grew up alone and scared and dealing with shit they shouldn’t ever to.”

Steve smiled, oh how far they’d come. Him and Tony. Survivors to the bitter end and yet here, in the steamy bathroom of Steve’s house. Their home. They found the chance to be so much more than that. Steve leaned down to kiss him again, capturing Tony’s lips softly.

“Lord, I fell in love with a dreamer.” Steve whispered gently as they pulled away, eyes twinkling and a large smile on his face.

“A visionary.” Tony corrected softly, although his smile spoke volumes.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he captured Tony’s lips in another kiss.

/

When Steve got home after his first day under Fury’s charge, he found Tony in the kitchen perched on top of the counter sipping a cup of coffee. He looked well rested, which was a first for him. He gave Steve a sleepy smile as he pushed his way into the house, dumping his bag on the floor at the sight of his boyfriend.

Tony had moved in a few days before, merging the small boxes of his belongings in with Steve effortlessly. It was almost like they fit together. It was natural to see Tony’s shirts hanging up with his. Their socks next to each other in the drawer. Steve would always get a soft smile when he saw one of Tony’s books on the nightstand and a notebook ready for when he was in bed and an idea suddenly came to him. Steve had given him free reign of the garage too, his own space to experiment and test out his theories. Tony had rewarded him with a heart stopping kiss when Steve had presented it to him, eyes drifting to the cars in the corner with a seductive glint. Everything seemed easier with Tony there, team movie nights were fuller with Tony curled up into him and even their disastrous attempts at cooking together were filled with a laughter and contentment that Steve didn’t think he’d ever get.

“Hey honey, how was your day?” Tony mocked with a wider grin as he sipped his coffee, feet gently thudding against the cupboards. Steve caught sight of a flash of tanned skin at Tony’s side, a silver of teasing making his mouth water.

Steve returned his smile, “Long. I think this unit is going to work though. Fury seems to understand that approaching these gangs head on isn’t the way to do it.”

“How did he take your request?”

“Fine. Our first case will officially be looking into the gang that killed Thor’s brother,” Steve replied, moving towards Tony to investigate the way more skin was revealed between the end of his seemingly too short t-shirt and the line of his joggers whenever Tony shifted, “I promised Thor I’d find answers and now we might be able to give him closure as well.”

Tony nodded, “That’s good.”

“How’s Buck?”

Tony had spent his day off helping Bucky adjust to his new arm. He made sure to have him test it out in various positions to determine both durability and comfort. Tony has drawn the designs himself, spending hours trying to perfect it before he could show Bucky the finished version. He used the SI resources to create it soon after and now Bucky was the owner of one mechanical arm, first model of its kind and more advanced than anything else on the market. Bucky was taking rehabilitation hard, refusing help and insisting he was fine. It was Natasha that had gotten through to him with some harsh truths about family and support.

“The new arm seems to be working for him, lightweight and flexible so he should retain most of the mobility he had before.” Tony said, “But he still isn’t used to wearing it for extended periods of time, he’ll get there. We just need to keep working at it.”

Steve sighed, placing a hand on Tony’s leg and squeezing, “Thank you. For everything you’re doing for him.

“Well, that’s what family does, right?” Tony smiled, placing his empty coffee mug to the side to place a warm hand over Steve’s on his leg, “Speaking of family, I saw Natasha coming out of Bucky’s room this morning. They were laughing.”

“It’s none of our business, Tony.”

“She was _giggling_. Natasha. I’ve never heard her giggling before.”

Steve stopped short for a moment, “She was giggling?”

“Like a schoolgirl. I’m telling you, Steve, bridges are being mended. They’re healing and moving on.”

Steve smiled, “I’m starting to think you’re more of a gossip than Sam.”

“Not possible.” Tony retorted, “I’ve never pressed my ear up against a door to listen in on the conversation inside.”

That made Steve chuckle, leaning back slightly to take in the happiness in Tony’s whiskey brown eyes and the lightness in his features. He didn’t just look happier than Steve had seen him in months but lighter too. His eyes drifted back down to the edge of Tony’s t-shirt, that expanse of skin Steve knew so well peeking out like a beacon.

“Are you wearing a crop top?” Steve asked, his mouth forming words around the dryness of his throat.

Tony fluttered his lashes and smirked at him, “I shrunk it in the wash, but I love this t-shirt.” He shrugged, “You don’t like it?”

Steve bit his lip to stop the groan as he allowed his hands to run across the smooth skin on display for him, “That’s not exactly the phrase I would use.”

Tony’s eyes sparkled, “That’s what I thought.”

“What’s gotten you so happy?” Steve asked, curiosity in his tone. He was happy Tony was happy, not weighed down by the burdens that had plagued him since he killed Ross.

Tony shrugged a little from his spot on the counter, a smile on his face, “I didn’t have a nightmare last night. Slept the whole way through.”

Steve beamed, “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

And it was. Natasha and Bucky weren’t the only ones healing and it made Steve’s heart warm to see Tony so happy after everything he’d been through. Maybe now he was starting to believe there was a way through this. One small step at a time.

He leaned down to kiss Tony softly, wanting to celebrate his small victory with him. He kept it short and sweet, pulling back to see Tony pouting gently. Steve chuckled, giving him another kiss on the forehead before pulling back.

Tony didn’t let him get far though, his legs coming up to wrap around Steve’s waist, effectively trapping him and pulling him back against Tony. Steve placed both his hands on the edge of the counter either side of Tony’s legs to steady himself as he went colliding back against him.

Tony kissed him again, harder this time. His hands were threading into Steve’s hair, pulling him down as his legs squeezed Steve closer. This kiss was far more suggestive than Steve’s had been, Tony’s tongue slipping into his mouth slowly.

Steve hummed, pulling away when he felt Tony’s arousal pressing against him in the circle of his thighs. Tony was half-hard, and his legs weren’t letting Steve move far. Tony’s lips moved down to Steve’s jaw, mapping out the smooth skin that was sensitive to his touch. Steve shuddered, feeling his own arousal at their position flood through him suddenly. Tony’s lips travelled further, sucking at his pulse point until Steve let out a quiet groan.

“Tony,” He breathed, hands moving to Tony’s hips, “We can’t. Not here.”

Tony growled against his throat, “Why not?”

He went back to kissing Steve’s neck, teeth grazing his earlobe and Steve almost forgot how to speak, debating just throwing Tony down and taking him right there in the kitchen.

“We have a full house; anyone could walk in.” Steve tried to remind him as he grew hard, blood pooling south.

Tony pulled back; pupils blown. He kept his eyes locked on Steve’s as he slid his hand down to cup his growing erection through his pants, “I guess that means we’ll just have to be quiet.” He responded cheekily.

Steve bit back a moan, hips rolling into Tony’s hand wantonly. His lips found Tony’s with a fierceness that had Tony gasping softly and Steve biting at his lip for the noise.

When they pulled apart they were both panting and Tony was throwing his crop top over his head with a flick of his hands, miles of tanned warm skin within Steve’s reach. His mouth was practically watering at the thought.

“Make love to me, Steve.” Tony said softly between them, the statement both arousing and vulnerable at the same time.

Steve nodded eagerly as Tony bit his own lip. He slipped his own shirt over his head as if to show Tony he was committing to this and then Tony was drawing him back into the circle of his thighs, hands grabbing at Steve’s sides as their lips fused together once more.

This kiss was filled with everything to come. A future, a life. It was a promise and a declaration of everything they felt and wanted to express. Steve took his time exploring Tony’s mouth like it was the first time and he felt Tony shuffle closer, right to the edge of the counter. He was trusting Steve’s weight to support him and Steve made sure to grip his legs firmly in his hands as they kissed.

The angle had Steve bending down and meant Tony was too high, his erection pressing into Steve’s stomach rather than his crotch, where Steve really wanted to feel him. He growled, hoisting Tony up into his arms, relishing in the feeling of Tony squeezing his legs around him, hands gripping Steve’s shoulders. Steve moved them over to the kitchen table, planting Tony onto the edge and wasting no time in bringing him closer, their erections pressing deliciously against each other.

Tony moaned at the friction, rolling his hips against Steve’s as his hands roamed over Steve’s chest, kissing every inch of skin closest to him. Steve still had hold of his legs, pushing his hips against Tony so his hips rocked. The friction between them was teasingly not enough and almost too much at the same time. Tony threw himself backwards, sprawling out on the table like an open invitation.

Steve wasn’t complaining.

His head dipped down as he worked on sucking a path across Tony’s ribs, warm skin under his lips as Tony hitched his legs higher up Steve’s waist. Steve reached his nipple, flicking his tongue against the pert bud, Tony jerked, arms coming up and knocking the fruit bowl off the table, the plastic clattering to the floor as apples and oranges rolled at their feet.

“Tony, you have to be quiet.” Steve responded, eyes darting to the door as if someone might come in at any moment.

Tony wiggled against him, effectively regaining Steve’s attention, “Stop teasing me.”

Steve nipped at his nipple lightly before pulling back, hands working on the ties of Tony’s joggers – which were miles too big and definitely belonged to Steve – tugging them down his legs along with his boxers until he was free of them and sprawled out naked on the table like a three course meal.

Steve wasted no time in swirling his fingers into his mouth, coating them in his own spit until they were slick enough. Tony was panting with the build-up, aware of every movement Steve made. His cock bobbed against his stomach, eager and hot and red.

Tony moved his feet from Steve’s waist, planting them on the edge of the table, knees bent until his ass was almost in the air. Steve understood immediately, moving his fingers to Tony’s hole with a practiced ease. He probed gently, tip of his finger pushing against Tony’s resistance until Tony was shaking with impatience and glaring at Steve like he wanted to shout out at him for taking so long. Steve waited until Tony’s eyes focused on him and pushed the first finger inside him. Tony shuddered at the intrusion, walls tightening and relaxing against his finger as Steve pumped in and out of him slowly, one hand on his knee to steady himself from his own pleasure building at having Tony like this.

Tony let out a heavy breath, eyes slipping closed at the feeling of Steve’s finger inside of him. Steve pumped it a few more times before adding a second finger. Tony’s cock jerked and he let out a moan that he managed to cut off with a bite of his lip. Steve continued working him open, fingers scissoring in and out of him as he watched the thin sheen of sweat coat Tony’s skin. He was almost glowing, happy and unburdened and Steve’s. Always Steve’s.

Steve leaned down to kiss him, slotting himself between his bent knees with his fingers still buried inside of him. This position was more intimate as he swallowed Tony’s moan, fingers moving inside of him as the heel of his hand pressed against his own cock through his jeans. Steve went slow and shallow, lighting the fire without letting it roar. Tony was devouring kiss after kiss from his lips as his hips bucked up and Steve couldn’t resist adding a third finger.

He slipped it in with the others to feel Tony vibrate against him, fuller and more desperate than before. Steve pressed against him, feeling Tony’s body against every line of his and he pushed deeper inside his heat, curling his fingers in the way he knew would rub right over Tony’s prostrate because he knew Tony’s body better than his own.

Tony bucked against him, throwing a leg over Steve’s side to draw him closer. He broke their kiss to pant against Steve’s cheek, hands holding him in a vice grip as Steve hit his prostrate again. He worked Tony’s body relentlessly, feeling his pants dampen his cheek and vibrate through his ear. He felt his fingers digging deeper into his shoulders and his body start to shudder towards release also involuntary.

“Steve.” Tony mewled, breathless and wanting.

“Shhh.” Steve reminded him, rubbing against his prostrate firmly until Tony was throwing his head back against the table and squeezing against Steve’s fingers.

“I need to come.” Tony whispered harshly into his ear.

Steve felt his own shiver, moving his hand off Tony’s knee to cover his mouth. Tony was always a vocal lover, it was one of the things Steve loved about him but right now they didn’t need to bring the whole house down to the kitchen because he was shouting out.

Tony sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, tongue against them as he sucked like he would on Steve’s cock. Steve felt his own breath stutter.

“Jesus, Tony.” He found himself saying despite his own warning, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else.

He went back to moving his fingers faster than before, hitting his prostrate maddeningly as Tony sucked on his fingers and bucked his hips. He was so close; he was tensing with every thrust hoping it would be the one to push him over.

Steve leaned down to suck at his nipple, matching the way Tony was sucking on his fingers as he pushed in again, fingers curling and rubbing against his prostrate.

Tony came was a shudder, come coating both their stomachs where his cock was pressing between them. He groaned around Steve’s fingers, the sound muffled and not nearly as vocal as he’d normally be. Steve guided him through it, rubbing the little bundle of nerves until Tony had managed to wring out every bit of pleasure from his orgasm before he released Steve’s fingers and Steve slowly withdrew his own from Tony’s hole.

They were both panting, but Tony was pushing his heel against the edge of Steve’s jeans as if that would remove them quicker.

Steve placed another kiss on the centre of his chest, “You ready for me?”

Tony nodded eagerly, “Yes.”

Steve had his jeans undone and down around his ankles in record time, his boxers soon joining them. His cock stood proud and erect, already leaking precome. Tony sat up slowly, licking his own palm before taking Steve in his hand. Steve whined in the back of his throat as Tony worked him, slicking him up ready to take him in.

“Quiet, remember?” Tony teased, nipping at his jaw as he stroked the length of him from base to tip.

Steve jerked into his hand, “If you keep that up I’m coming to come before I’m inside you.” He cautioned.

Tony smirked, dirty and sinful before stroking him one last time, releasing Steve’s cock as he laid back down against the table again.

Steve lined himself up as Tony brought his legs up again, feeling Steve’s tip pushing against him. Steve slid in slowly, inch by torturous inch as Tony expanded around him until he was fully seated inside of him. Steve barely had time to catch his breath before Tony was wrapping his legs back around Steve’s hips and pressing them together as tightly as possible.

When he started moving he did so slowly, wanting to give Tony the chance to get hard so he could come again. Steve knew that teasing him was the best way to rile up Tony’s arousal and Tony seemed to know that was what he was doing, reaching down a hand to his cock to take it gently in hand. He matched Steve’s pace until his cock started filling with blood again, backing away to let himself grow erect properly without the over stimulation.

Steve sped up slightly, thrusting into Tony as his hips rose to meet him. They moved together, push and pull until Tony was rock hard between them again and Steve was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting out a groan. He was embarrassing close, this situation the right kind of sinful to have him trying to stave off his own release so they could come together.

Tony pulled him back down so they’re bodies fit together again, capturing Steve’s mouth in a kiss as he hitched his legs up against Steve’s ribs and opened himself up wider to take Steve in deeper.

Steve was shaking, threatening to come with every thrust. He could feel the sticky mess of their stomachs rubbing together, Tony’s cock adding more precome to the mess as Steve’s body moved above him. Tony dug his heels in and Steve picked up the pace. He broke the kiss when he needed to breath, panting as he pressed his forehead against Tony’s to keep connected to him as he moved inside him. Tony seemed to understand, one hand cupping Steve’s smooth cheek to keep him there as their pleasure grow.

Steve’s hips stuttered and he bit back a moan, Tony needed to be there with him to come. He reached down between them, hand finding Tony’s cock to take it in his fist, stroking him to pace with his cock buried in his ass. Tony whimpered, slightly from arousal and slightly from over stimulation but he wrapped his legs tighter around Steve and grabbed Steve’s other hand in his free one to place them both over Tony’s heart, hammering in his chest.

Tony mouthed an ‘I love you’ in the space between them and that was all it took for Steve to cum, buried deep inside Tony with a pained gasp and Tony’s hand gripping his on his chest. He pumped Tony still, riding out his wave as he felt the slick of Tony’s cum dribbling onto his fist. Tony leaned his head back, causing Steve’s forehead to bump his nose because of how close they were, and he was coming too. A shudder of silent pleasure as he fell apart in Steve’s arms.

Steve panted his way to calming his own heart, slipping out from Tony’s ass before he softened and he felt Tony relax his legs, letting them tangle down the edge of the table. Steve placed his forehead on Tony’s shoulder as he collected himself and Tony stroked his hair gently.

“Hey, Steve?” Tony hummed, fingers weaving through his hair.

Steve hummed, lifting his head up to look at Tony softly and bleary eyed, “Yeah, Tony?”

“I think we’re going to be okay.” He said it like a revelation, like a promise. Steve wanted to drown in those words coming from Tony’s lips after everything they’d been through.

He placed a kiss over Tony’s heart, “We’re going to be okay.” He replied with a smile.

And they were.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, liked and enjoyed this story and has been a part of this journey with me. I love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave comments and kudos to share your thoughts. This story started out on Tumblr with character moodboards and a prompt so feel free to head over there for extra content @writerwithfluffysocks :)


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